High School
by CaptainTinaRaven
Summary: Its been Five years in South Park. The town looks the same, but a lot has changed friendship wise by then. Kyle is afraid Stan's life is way to busy and he's no longer his best friend anymore. Life is typical. Life is Gay. Seriously. KylexStan.
1. Chapter 1

High School

Chapter 1: Waiting and Debating

It was another cold day at the school bus stop. Snow covered the ground, as usual. A little cloudy not a lot of sunlight. Normal. Boring. Nothing different. That is, if you want to count that it is five years later in the small hick town called South Park. More or less everything was the same, just older. The town did not seem to change at all. Nothing was different, or was there?

Two teenage boys were seen standing at the yellow bus stop sign. None looked happy, neither looked sad. Just there. Standing. Waiting for the bus in the freezing cold weather. But luckily they both had the proper clothing to wear.

The one on the left, closest to the sign, wore a green hat that covered his 'ears,' at the side. Sort of like earmuffs. Around him, was a orange, green collared, coat with two visible pockets in the front. Lower, was his teal greenish, blue pants that hung down almost over his black shoes. Eyes searched left, then right, as if trying to see if anyone else was coming, "Dude, where's Stan?"

"Like I care. I'm surprised he's not right next to you. You douches are usually attached at the hip," The quite larger boy next to the first scoffed. After, he yawned bringing a yellow glove up to his mouth to prove his point. He was not exactly the other's best friend. Hell, the other boy hated him with a passion. He managed to get his yawns under control from the sever boring atmosphere around him.

"Shut up, Cartman! I can't believe I have to be stuck with you for another school day!" The boy in the green hat folded his arms and looked far from the direction of the other. There was no way in hell he wanted to go through this day with just Cartman. He would be annoyed every five seconds of the day. Without his best friend, Stan, there would be no one to tell the fat ass to back off. He could tell the large boy next to him was thanking the Lord for the day he gets to pick on Kyle, twenty-four Seven. Or if luck was really on his side longer. The smaller boy made a annoyed noise.

Kyle looked around. Everything he was seemed to be the same, but everything was not. In the beginning there were four boys standing at this same bus stop, day in and day out (If you don't count weekends).

Kenny turned queer about a year ago and no one really associated with him after that. Pretty much, they got a lecture from there parents about them not wanting their boys to become gay, which Kyle thought was pretty pointless. Cartman did not get that talk, he just said 'I hate you, Kenny,' and walked away. It was pretty shocking actually. The little blonde boy would always talk about perverted stuff and girls, then, the next thing you knew…

Stan, was now, part of the football team. He was pretty good, the star player of the South Park cows. He made five winning touchdowns in one month. Out of the boys, he was currently the tallest and every girl and school wanted to date him, but the only one he had an eye on, was the one that did not want him, Wendy. Besides that, he has normal grades, normal opinions, and a normal life ahead of him.

There was also, one other person who secretly had an eye on Wendy. Eric Cartman, the boy who gives Kyle hell. Now, failing almost every class that hits him in the face, he seems to pass them anyways. He isn't the star anything, but he has his way with words and getting what he wants. And what he wants is Wendy.

Wendy. Well, let's just say she is not as innocent as she looks. She was every boy's dream and they thought she was perfect. She was smart, cute, and good at pretty much anything. Some call her spoiled, but she calls them jealous. She also had a personality and extremely proud of her own looks. She would never dream of giving Stan another look.

That brings us back down to Kyle again. He will now and forever be called the Jewish kid. Now from the day he dies. But for some reason he still is not use to being called it. He has a very short temper, especially around Cartman, and it usually takes Stan to stop most of his fights. He had to at least bust Eric's nose twice by now. It was hard for him to stay cool when others keep picking at him about the stupidest things. There are also other things people over look about him. He is really good at school, weather he tries or not it's up to him. If the fat kid ever caught him with an A, he would always be told that it's because he is a Jew and Jewish people get good grades and they usually go to Harvard and get good jobs that give them a ton of money and leave other people without any jobs. Even if Kyle was suppose to be proud of that, he wasn't. It was a stereotype he did not want. He just wanted to be normal. Stan gets away with it, why can't he?

The bus finally came. The boys were introduced by a scream and a "sit down," as they entered the doors. Why were bus drivers so mean? If they hated their job THAT much, why not try to get another one? Bus drivers always look the same too. Old, fat ladies with long ass skirts. Seriously, if I am wrong, shoot me down now. They hate kids and they hate driving… WHY ARE THEY BUS DRIVERS THEN!

Kyle found an empty seat and put his book bag on the outside of his seat, as he looked out the window. He did not like sitting next to anyone but Stan. Everyone else either smells funny or picks their nose. Some, he would rather just avoid. This was going to be the longest ride of his life. In fact, he would know. The last couple bus rides were too. Stan had not been riding the bus, but in the hallways he would see him. He did not get a chance to talk to him because Stan's has been busy. He thought about hanging around until after football practice was over, but he rethought that. Or did he? Maybe he should today, he did not want to feel left out anymore, and there was no way in hell he was going to become Cartman's best friend.

His train of thought was knocked to the side as the familiar fat ass's voice was heard above him. Eric was in the seat in front of him and looking back, over the seat, "Hello, Kyle. I see you're sitting by yourself again." Why did it always seem like he had an evil plan every time he spoke? Oh yeah, he usually does.

The Jewish boy looked up scowl, "What do you want, you fat piece of shit?" He said bitterly. He did not have time for him today and altogether, he was sick of his voice.

The large boy's eyes closed tight, as he banged his fists on the bus' seat, "'EY! I'm not fat, I'm big boned, damn it!" His anger was soon gone after that though. He has heard and said the same thing over again, it was just second nature to him now, "Looks like Jew boy misses his boyfriend. If you want, I could hook you up with faggot, poor boy, Kenny over there?" He pointed straight at the guy with an orange coat, and hood covering most of his face, who had been sitting in the back seat of the bus. He earned himself a glare and the finger, which he was proud of. He loved pissing people off, so much.

Kyle knew who was being pointed at and he did not even need to look back. He actually felt kind of sorry for Kenny that none of them were his friend anymore. He would never be brave enough to do that. There was no way he needed to be called a fag too. He was trying to get rid of the pile of names that were thrown at him, not add more. He did not call him names and hate him, but at the same time, he did not do anything to stop it. He shook that thought from his mind and folded his arms, "You're an asshole, Cartman." Was all he said before looking out the window once again.

Kyle managed to get through another boring day of school. He purposely missed the bus after school too. He did not mind it if he had to walk, but he was still contemplating if he would stay after and wait for Stan after football practice. He made a seat on the railing by the back doors of the school. It was not too late to just back down and forget about it, but he kind of wanted to see him.

Thinking to himself, he noticed that his best friend did not have all the time in the world anymore. They use to do everything together, and now, things just seemed like they were falling apart. Like, the older you get, the more distant your friends become. It started off seeing each other everyday, then every other day, then once a week, once a month, to none all together. He even wondered if he forgot all about him already, but that was ridiculous, right? Friends don't just… forget!

Before he knew it the bell rang, almost causing him to loose his balance and fall, but he caught himself. He watched the kids rush out, trying to search each one for a friendly face. None were Stan though. The crowd left, fading into cars and buses, but none were Stan.

The boy whispered to himself, "Maybe he is sick today." He looked down. He did not recall seeing him in the hallways talking to the people on his team today. Maybe he did not have practice and left already. He sighed, looking down at his black shoes, "What the hell am I doing?"

"Kyle?" That sound was like music to his ears. The same tone of voice as the kid he grew up with. His best friend in the whole world!

"Stan!" He looked up with a smile, only to have it vanish, seeing Wendy Testaburger wrapped around him. He had to blink a few times to see what he was seeing was actually what he was…. SEEING! "Oh, uh, Hey Wendy."

The little black hair girl gave him a little wave followed by a smile. She always thought it was so cute how good of friends Stan and Kyle were, of course not as cute as her and Stan, but still pretty sweet. She giggled and looked at the boy she was holding, "I didn't know you two were going to meet up after."

"Me… either." The confused black haired boy said, giving a confused look to his friend, "Something wrong, dude?" He knew something was up, considering Kyle never waited around for him. Well, for a while.

For some reason, this felt awkward. He did not really have a reason to be waiting for him. So, he gave an obvious lie, "No, no! Nothing's wrong! I just felt like sitting here, that's all." He stood up, "But now, I'm gonna go now. You know, walk home." He started down the stairs at a fast pace, "See ya!"

"Hey, wait!" Stan called out to his friend who was running away, "We're walking too." He looked down at the girl, "You don't mind, do you?"

She gave off a bubbly laughter, "No, not at all." She squeezed more into the boy's personal space, placing her head on his shoulder.

Kyle stopped in his tracks whispering to himself, "Oh great…" He could not stand Wendy, but something did not make sense to him. She would never say yes to Stan before. Why now? How come they are going out now? He felt so out of the loop, it was not even funny. Instead of turning around, he waited for the couple to walk over to him, not only that, he had them lead the way, and he fell behind. He wanted to be alone right now. The laughing and smiling from the two was making him nauseous.

"Hey, Kyle. You don't mind if we drop Wendy off first. She has a dentist appointment at five." The boy glanced over his should to see if his friend was still there even. He never knew Kyle was so quiet. Maybe it would be good to bring Wendy home and talk about what was wrong after.

The Jewish boy hardly heard the question asked, "Yeah." He said, not giving it any thought at all. He was too busy wanting to go home and curling up into a little ball in his bed and… who knows what else. This was a stupid feeling. He really wished he knew what was causing it. Without warning, he bumped into the back of his friend, "eh?" He took a couple steps back and whispered, "Sorry." He must have really been out of it, not to notice two people in front of him stop.

"Wait, so, you mind if I take Wendy home first? If you don't feel good we can go to your house first." He was getting a little concerned with Kyle. He did not seem like himself right now. He even ignored the ignorant "What!" that came from his girlfriends mouth.

The boy in the green hat gave a fake smile, "No, no! I don't mind! Really! I'm just a little tired." Actually it was the opposite and every word in that sentence was a lie. He minded and he wanted to go home first, but the look on Wendy's face told him otherwise.

They continued to walk. The conversation in front of Kyle was inaudible, but he could care less. The faster they took Wendy home, the better. Her voice was starting to get on his nerves. A lot. He was regretting waiting for his friend now. I mean, now. They were part of two different lives. They probably would not have anything in common anymore. A couple months sure felt like a couple years.

Once they finally made it to the girl's house, it took Stan and Wendy awhile to say good-bye at the door. Well, they were not exactly 'saying' anything at all. Let's just say it was one of the longest make-outs of its time.

Once Stan was done and the door was shut he turned around only be rewarded with a cold stare from his friend. He wondered what he was so pissed about, it was not like he did anything wrong to deserve that, "Dude! What's your problem?"

Any other time he would have screamed back a smart ass comment, but he did not feel like it. He said in a low voice, "I'm going home." His head sunk down from his shoulders and he began walking away. It was ridiculous. There was no point of him even following along with them. He should have left on the bus like a normal person would do. But let's face it, he wasn't.

Stan's expression changed suddenly. He went over to his friend's side and spoke, "What's wrong? And don't give me that bullshit about 'nothing.' There was a reason you were waiting for me. Did Cartman say your parents died again, or something?"

Kyle's eyes scanned his friend's face for a minute before giving a respond, "No, it doesn't have anything to do with fat-ass." He looked forward and began walking, automatically knowing his best friend was going to follow, "Stan, it feels like we're not friends anymore. I never see you and we hardly hang out."

The boy in the red poof ball hat (AHAHAHAH! ….) gave off an aggravated noise, "Its not my fault, ok? I'm just busy. We're always going to be friends though, got it?" He kind of looked offended when he heard that question. It made him feel like Kyle was putting all the blame on him.

"So? It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter if you're busy. It doesn't matter if you have a girlfriend. Its still the truth. We're not as close as we use to be. Admit that!" Kyle's rage was starting to return. His friend did not care, did he?

"What! Fine, I admit that, but there's nothing I can do!" His friend's rising tone only made his go higher.

"You're not even making an effort to see me! Its always foot ball! 'Sorry, I have a practice. Sorry, I have a game.' And you constantly talk about Wendy this and Wendy that! If I ever get a chance to even talk to you its about WENDY!" He was beginning to lose it and this time Stan was not there to calm him down because right now, HE was his aggravation right now.

"Sorry, if I have a Goddamn LIFE, Kyle! No matter what you say, I'm not going to stop playing football and I'm not going to stop loving Wendy! You have some fucking issues! How about you fucking fix them and stop clinging onto me! It will give you something to do!"

Kyle stood there in silence for a minute. His eyes were wide as if he never heard his friend say anything like that before. All of it registered through his head and he looked down, "I… I… You're right." He did not know how much he was interfering with his friend's life. He felt awful, he felt guilty, but above all that, he felt hurt. He has been in fights with his friend, but not about this. He managed to hide one of his wussy Jewish tears before running off by himself, all the way home.


	2. Chapter 2

Chaper 2: Trail by Error

Two feet stomped onto a porch as huffs and puffs were coming from the owner's. Two green gloved hands came up to two eyes and soaked away tears. "Damn, I feel like a pussy." He said in between gulps of air and sobs. After getting himself under better control, he looked up to the door. It was not his. He could not go home yet. He needed someone to talk to. He took a deep breath in and let out a nervous sigh and knocked on the door. "Maybe he's not home."

Just at that second, the door opened, showing the boy in the orange coat and the hood tide tight around his head. As he spoke, it was hard to hear him, but he was still heard, "Kyle?" He was surprised to even see the boy at his door step. He was one of the last people he expect to be at his door.

Meanwhile, Stan had already made his way to his own house. He already had enough stress on his back already, why the hell was Kyle putting more pressure on him. He thought he could always go to his best friend if he had a problem about Wendy, but his guess was wrong. He sat down on his porch and rubbed his head, trying to get rid of that clogging feeling there.

A second to relax? Never. Not in his book. His cell phone began to ring. "God damn it.." He whispered and reached into the brown pocket of his coat to retrieve the item that was making the loud irritating tones. The words appeared on the screen, 'Wendy's Cell.' She was calling him a lot lately. He flipped the phone up and pressed it to his ear, "Hello?" He said, more in a low boredom sigh.

A perky voice on the other end spoke back, "Hiya, sweetie. I'm in the waiting room and it is SOoO boring. I'm reading these out-of-date teen magazines. Can I ask you some of these weird-o questions to pass the time. Please?" Her voice sounded as innocent as possible, but she knew the boy would not say no.

He rested his face onto the phone and his other hand tried to relieve the pressure in between his eyes, "Um, sure." He really did not feel like it, but maybe it would get his mind off the whole Kyle thing.

"Ok," Flipping pages were heard in the background, to indicate she was turning it to the correct page, "Alright. It says to answer each question honestly," She stopped, "but wait. The A, B, C, and D answers are all crossed out, I can't read them."

Stan shrugged, "Just ask them and I'll give my own answer. I'll answer honestly." If Wendy wanted time to waste, he would help, and he did not like the disappointed sound in her voice.

She gave him a few approving giggles, "That's a great idea! Ok. First question: When was the last time you were very angry?"

His eyes were covered by his hand now, "Right now." He mumbled, it was not helping him. It only brought the subject up again, but preventing it from happening he encouraged her to go on, "Next question."

"That's fair. Um… Question Two: You're on a flight from Honolulu to Chicago non-stop. There is a fire in back of the plane. You have enough time to make one phone call. Who do you call?" She had already come up with an answer for her in her head. She was waiting for him to say her name now.

There was silence for a second. He searched his mind for a true answer. Only one came to mind. He pictured himself on the plane and going down. Picking up his cell phone, under his address book inside. He scrolled down and the name stood out from the rest, "My best friend, Kyle."

Wendy had to admit, she was pretty shocked. She was really expecting to hear her own name, but she did not let it get to her, "Hmmm. Ok, then. Next question: Your best friend confesses that he/she has feelings for you more than just a friendship. He/She is falling in love with you. What do you say?" This was an answer she actually wanted to hear from him.

Stan's mouth opened a little to answer, but then stopped. That was the gayest question he had ever heard. How would he even be able to answer that? Kyle was his best friend, he would never get feelings for him. Never.

Without warning his mind tried to play out what it would be like. The two friends were sitting on the couch watching T.v. The boy in the red and blue hat laid back as if relaxing from a stressful day, while the other was watching the box casually.

"God, what a day." He said, rubbing the top of his forehead.

The other's boy's eyes feel on him, "Yeah?" He leaned closer to his friends so he could get a better few of his face, "Tell me all about it." A small smile appeared on his face.

"Huh?" The blood started to rush to the black haired boy's cheeks, trying not to look back, "Um, no thanks."

Kyle came closer until his face was way too far into his personal space, "Well, how about I tell you about mine." The little Jew's eyes filled with lust, "I've been thinking about you all day. I'm falling for you, Stan."

The boy could just look back and feel extremely awkward. Was his best friend actually saying this? What was he suppose to do? The small breaths from his friend hit his face, but he could not help but breath it in. In some way it felt so sweet. Little noises of protest came from him, "Kyle." He grabbed his friend by that stupid green collar and brought him closer. He placed his lips onto those one's of his best friend's, locking lips as if he wanted him more than anyone in the world.

"Stan? Stan? Hello?" The girl on the other side of the phone sank into the boy's ear and he regain his consciousness once again.

"AAAHHHHH!" He dropped the cell phone and began sprinting from it, as if it would attack him. He did not like Kyle, not like that. Kyle did not like him. None of that was true, right? After awhile, aimlessly running throughout the street, he dropped to his knees. What was he running? If none of that was true, why was he scared? It was just a stupid test. It was suppose to make him forget about the fight. Now, he is thinking about it way too much.

It took him awhile to cool down, only to look up. He had stopped at Stark's pond. So many memories there. It was actually really peaceful. It gave him a minute to calm his nerves. It left one question in mind though. One he should not even be thinking about, "Should I apologize to Kyle? I wonder where he is."

Back at Kenny's, the said boy was standing outside the door of the poor boy's place.

"Can I help you, Kyle?" The hooded boy muffled out. It was very strange to see him. They have not talked in over a year, and he would be the one getting ignored and made fun of. He could see from the other's expression that he was not there to just gay bash him.

Kyle gave a pathetic look his ex-friend's way, "I'm sorry, dude. You probably don't want to hear me out, but… I have nowhere else to go." It was very obvious something was bothering him, he just tried his best not to show it.

"Why come to me? If you have anyone it's Stan and Cartman." He leaned against the doorway, still clueless about the boy in front of him. Not stalker wise, but he has noticed a shift in the other's mood lately.

The Jewish boy let out a laugh sarcastic laugh, "Cartman? Please! He couldn't give a rat's ass about anyone, No… anything on this stupid Earth! There's no way he would understand." He rested his body a little onto the nearest broken piece of porch he could find. He looked down at the little welcome mat under the other boy's feet.

"…And Stan?" Kenny added, not surprised to get the response about Cartman. The real mystery is why he did not go to Stan, his best friend, about his problem. Not that he thought it was rude or anything, but he was curious.

"Stan…" He sighed out and looked the other boy's way, "Stan is my problem, Kenny. He," Kyle started, but closed his mouth and turned to look out from the small porch that he was on. The only real view was a set of railroad tracks and some dirty furniture in the front yard, "I don't know?"

"Whoa! Whoa! Wait!" This was getting a little more interesting. He closed the door of his home and made a seat on one of the creaking steps on the porch. He looked up at Kyle with an unseen smile, "Tell me more!"

Seeing as he was probably going to be there awhile, he sat down next to Kenny, but he managed not to look his way. He was too upset about his current problem, "We're best friends. Me and him always have. It just seems like," Words came to a halt, and he could not find the find them for the life of him, "He. I." He just gave a shake of the head for his answer.

"Are drifting apart?" It seemed like the right thing to say, and by the look on the other's face when he said it, he hit the nail right on the head. "Did you talk to him about it?" He let his forearms rest on his knees waiting for an answer.

"Yes. Of course I did," The boy in the green hat said, as if it were obvious. His facial appearance saddened as he leaned forward to lay his chin to his lap, "He blew up. He started yelling at me, and well, I started yelling back. Until… he was getting into personal shit, then I ran away like a little pussy," His eyes met the hooded boy's, "Then, I came here."

"Hey," He placed his hand on the other's back, "I bet you'll be friends again soon. Stan isn't the one to keep a grudge, especially towards you. Try talking to him again tomorrow. You know, alone. You give him this face you're giving me and a few 'sorry's, he'll forget it ever happened."

Kyle looked up and smiled a bit, "Thanks. You really didn't need to do this. I mean, I've been a complete asshole to you." He looked out at his surroundings once again, "Tomorrow, I'll wait for him to get out of practice again and apologize." It felt like things were going to fall into the right places again. Talking to someone else really helped.

One eyebrow rose and the other fell as Kenny gave the boy a confused look, "Wait? You waited all that time after school, just to see Stan? Aw, how cute. At least he knows that you care now." He said more jokingly than serious.

Kyle buried his face into his hands, "Hey, come on! That's something I would expect from Cartman, not you!" He felt the body heat rising up and bleeding from his cheeks, meaning, he was not about to bring his hands away anytime soon.

Kenny wove his hands in defeat, "Sorry, it was too hard to resist though. You two would make great couple. But seriously, you should try to talk it out again."

Kyle sighed, "Yeah, if Wendy isn't hanging on him like he's a fucking coat rack, maybe." His eyes met the small amount of snow that was on one of the steps and smeared it around with the sole of his shoe, "They're going out again!"

Kenny gave himself an amused smirk, "Do I sense jealousy?" Another joke that could have been left alone, but he had that one coming to him.

"I don't know," his attention was still focused on the ground, until he finally just kicked the snow off, "Maybe. A little. I mean, he is my best friend. I kind of want to talk to him without Wendy there, or having her name come up every two seconds. In my opinion, she's a fucking skank." He finally lifted his head, "I just want it to be like old times," He looked over to the hooded boy, "You know what I mean?"

Kenny nodded, "More than you imagine, Kyle. More than you imagine." Being alone was not fun. Loosing your best friends can really make someone depressed. He knew first hand. He was just glad to get one of these moments back, even if it meant Kyle ignoring him by the next day. Things were sure as hell a lot more fun when they were kids, now, everything was just plan dull. Boring. Normal.

Kyle had forgotten in that moment that naturally the other boy would know how it felt. He kind of felt sorry. Especially since he was getting help from someone he did not. He sent a soft playful punch his way, "Hey, see you tomorrow? Same time?" He stood up and stretched a little."

He missed that. Hearing that all the time. It felt so unreal, "You know it!"

Kyle nodded, "Alright, dude! See ya, then!" He gave him one more glance before sprinting off down the few creaky steps and down the street. Things were going to work out fine. He would see. They would all see. Everything was going to be ok, and maybe things would go back to the way they were before. One could only hope.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three: With Us, Dismiss

The next day, Kyle did exactly what he said he was going to do. The only thing was that it was taking longer than before. The football players had not come out yet. Maybe they did not have a practice that day. He had nothing else to do that day, he could wait a little while longer before giving up. He made a seat on the same railing as he did yesterday and grabbed the papers of homework from his book bag to keep himself occupied.

It was not until a few hours passed when someone had gotten his attention, "So, you're here again?" It was the black haired girl, Wendy. She looked kind of angry at the boy waiting for her boyfriend, "You're going to walk with us again?"

The red-headed boy looked up from his paper, getting a quick glance at the girl who stood before him. He knew it was Wendy from the moment she started talking. Her voice was unbearably stained into his mind. He could not figure out what Stan even liked about her. His guess was that she was the only girl he could not get, "Hi, Wendy." Was all he gave her before returning to his homework.

"W-well, I don't think you should be hanging around him. He's been really busy lately and I wouldn't want his grades slipping just to catch up with you." Such disgrace. Somebody, ignore one of her questions? Good thing she could counterattack.

Kyle's eyes shut tight as he closed his book, folding all the papers inside. Rage started to build at that point, "Like you care! You could give a damn about Stan's grades. No, you couldn't care about him period!" He let the book drop into the snow with a loud thud and stood up, so he was taller. (Not by much, but still.) His stare ate away at her eyes as he continued, "He's only a Goddamn trophy to you, so you can tell all the girls that you're going out with Stan Marsh, the star football player, and none of them can. Maybe YOU'RE preventing him from having a LIFE!"

"He has a life! His life is with me!" She pointed one of her fingers towards her, then pointed at him as she finished, "Not you!"

He swatted the girl's finger away from him, "Oh, Shut up! Its not like I'm asking you to understand what a 'best friend' is. I'm here to talk to Stan for two seconds and then, you can go about whatever the hell else you two do!" He was about to walk off when he heard the bell ring. No, he did not wait all this time just to leave because of some stupid girl.

As usual the big crowd of people came bursting out of the doors, then the black haired boy came walking out the doors last. He placed a hand on his forehead, "God, I have a headache." He looked up to see his girlfriend and his best friend standing at the bottom of the school's steps. He blinked once, "Is everything alright? What are you doing here, Kyle?"

Before the Jewish boy could answer, Wendy took the stand, "He said he wants to talk to you for two seconds." She gave a bitter look at the boy with the green hat on, "TWO SECONDS! Got that! No longer!"

"Yeah, Yeah. I got it." He whispered more to himself, "You little bitch." No one heard, if they did, he would have gotten himself some ugly ass stares.

"I have to talk to him too." He glance at the purple coated girl, "It might take longer than two seconds though. I hope you don't mind." He gave a weird bored/pleading look to her, "Please, Wendy. If you want, you can walk ahead and I'll catch up."

"Fine!" She did not look pleased with it, but she did as she was told. Her black hair whipped out and hit the red-headed boy in the face as she walked by.

Kyle watched his friend, "You ok, dude? You look tired." His eyes opened more, "Oh, what I meant to say was… Sorry. You're right, I'm putting a lot of pressure on you."

Stan shook his head, "No, its alright. I over reacted." He rubbed at one of his eyes, which felt like it was burning out of its socket, "As for me being tired, you're right. Haven't been sleeping good, I guess. Star player on the football team, working at the little corner store part-time, school, homework, and a girlfriend. It sucks ass, dude."

"Sorry, dude." Kyle looked down, then up at him, "You should take a break. Play hooky for a day." He smiled at the suggestion.

"I wish I could, but there's no way I could pull that shit off. Plus, I would probably only use that day to sleep in." He returned a smile, "Thanks, though. I'll see what I can do. We'll go see that stupid robot movie you wanted to see, or something."

"Seriously!" Kyle has not felt so happy about anything in his life, before. If felt like forever since he had actually hung out with Stan, otherwise he would not be so hyped up about it. He kind of felt like a little kid and his dad just bought him a new toy. Sure, it was gay, but still very awesome.

The black haired boy just stood there and laughed, "Seriously. Just to see that smile again, I promise it." He gave him a nod and turned his head to see that Wendy had already made it to the street, "Well, I better go. See you tomorrow?" He began walking off towards the black top.

"Defiantly," Kyle mouth the words perfectly as if he would never get to say it again. Of course, he would probably be there every practice his friend had, just so he could get a two minute conversation like this in. It would be worth it in his book, but watching him leave with Wendy made his stomach feel sick and his muscles ache. Especially the one in his chest. His face saddened and grew pale as he spoke once more, "Good-bye, Stan."

The boy stopped. Kyle's depressed tone rang at his ears. He, suddenly, did not feel like leaving. He did not want to leave his friend behind. He would bet any money that Kyle would not leave him like this. Plus, he waited so long for him just to say 'Sorry,' and he, himself, barely gave an effort to go see him and do the same. Boy, what a lousy friend he was turning out to be. He turned halfway and eyed his mistreated friend, "Kyle." It was unexpected. He was even shocked anything came out. He was going to get his attention, then what?

The red-head looked up as he heard his name. He would have thought Stan would have been long gone by now. Off to see that girlfriend of his. Then, he would sit there for a minute and think about it before heading over to the poor part of the neighborhood. He blinked once, then twice, "Yes?"

Stan looked down, then slid his hand into his brown pocket searching for something. All that could be heard was some change rattling around inside. He gave a short smile of discovery and took out the hand that was now a fist. He took slow steps towards his friend, then stopped as he stood in the same spot as before, "Hold out you hands." His fist stayed close to his body, but it did not reveal what it was just yet.

Kyle took a step back, "Aw, now way, dude! I remember the last time you told me to do this! No way! I'm not falling for it again!" His brows curved down, looking up at his taller friend. Did he really think he would forget little details like that. Of course it was an innocent joke, but he still did not like being laughed at.

"Seriously, Its not a joke. Just do it." Stan took another step forward so they were the same amount of distance as last time, "I know you're smarter than that. Trust me, I don't do the same things twice and think they're funny the second time. That's Cartman's job." His shorter friend was sure making a big deal out of this, but he was still enjoying the other's sudden outburst of anger too. It almost gave Kyle a child-like charm that he could never ignore or stop and smile at.

"Fine," He said in defeat. He held out his arms and automatically closed his eyes, even when he was not told to, "Whatever happens, happens." He was almost afraid to open his eyes to see what his friend was about to place in his hands. What was he going to give him? A tip? He was not poor. Out of the four boys, he had the most money. Well, his parents did at least. That was why Stan had to go out and work for money while Kyle did his chores, which was unfair. He even admitted it.

Kyle felt the warmth from the other's hands as something was dropped into the small cup he was making. It felt like a nickel. He sighed and opened his eyes to look up at his friend, "Dude, I don't need your money." He gave a slight glare, as if he were actually insulted.

Stan only returned a soft smile, "Look again, dude." A long finger point down into the palms of his friend. He almost laughed at the fact that the other would actually think he was giving him money. If THAT felt like money, it would not even be enough for bum. That did not mean it was not expensive though. You can not put money on size. Big things actually did come in small packages.

Kyle gave the other boy a rather confused look, but once he looked down it all made sense. He closed his fingers over the object and sent it back to the other's chest, "I couldn't. This doesn't belong to me." This was something much more than anything he would have thought. He could never take something from his best friend that was so valuable.

He put his red gloved hands over those green ones and sent it back to Kyle's chest very gently, "But you can. This way, it will remind me not to give it to Wendy. God knows, I gave almost everything else to her. You deserve something too." He could always look at Kyle and trust him, that was why it was so easy to defend him and hand things over to him, just like that.

Kyle looked down at his fists that were now sheltered by Stan's hands. With that, he almost forgot it was almost zero degrees outside. Believe it or not, he felt warm. "I won't loose it." He said quietly, and more too his feet than to his friend.

"I know you won't." Stan shot another smile at him and let his hands fall before turning to jog back at the street again. This time with a little more confidence. Now, that he left a little bit of himself back with Kyle, it was easier to go.

On the other side of town, loud shouts and the noise of things being thrown were heard. The orange hooded boy stormed out of the house, "Jesus Christ, my family's fucked up!" He made a seat on the steps and covered his ears the best he could. It was another fight between his mom and dad. One nagging about little shit that was needed to be done and the other screaming because he was drunk off his ass. It was usually the same routine, but he was getting so Goddamn tired of it.

"Kenny?" The Jewish boy was standing in front of the other. The shouts could be heard very clear from outside, so, the blonde boy must not have heard him walk up. He was there though. Like he said he, except not at the same time. He kind of felt bad that he did not show up earlier, but it was well worth it, in his opinion, "Wanna go for a walk, or something?"

Kenny was more relieved than surprised to see Kyle. He knew he would have shown up sooner or later. Things must have went well if he came late, he would not hold it against him though. He was just happy he was there to save him from that shit hole he called a home. "More than you think," He stood up and walked down the driveway, or what was there at least.

"Sorry, dude. I would have came earlier, but Stan's practice went on for hours. Sometimes I don't even know how he does it." They were a good distance away from the house, so, it was better to start the conversation there.

"How'd it go?" The blonde boy glance down at the other's hands. It was a mystery to him why he was not wearing any gloves, but he let it slide. He wanted to hear about the situation and if he was right about Stan.

"He forgave me, easy. I hardly had to say anything," He looked over to the boy, then down at the ground with a stupid grin. That was only half the story, he liked the other half a lot more. His arms felt a little tingly, but it faded into a warm feeling. It was weird.

A smirk formed on the hooded boy's lips, "So, what'd he do? He give you a nice big kiss?" He shoved his hands into the worn orange pockets of his coat and watched the sky, just waiting for the other one to get all pissed off.

"No," He treated that question like it was normal. He looked Kenny's way, "He did give me something though." He held up his left hand and on the finger closest to the pinky had a ring around it, "He gave me his class ring. You know, the one he bought and never took off?" He brought his hand back and looked down at the silver ring with the large red gem inside.

Kenny stared at him, wide-eyed, "No way! What did you do! What'd you say?" He was hyper about this. This was some new information and sparks could have been flying and he did not even know about it. Maybe he should go with him once and awhile to check this shit out.

Kyle was taken back a bit, "What? I mean, I don't know? He made me take it and… that's it." He fiddled with the ring on his finger without thought and continued, "Was I suppose to do anything?"

"Give him yours, that would be the only realistic thing to do, dude!" He shook his head as if the other boy was expected to know the answer, "Did you at least hug him?"

Kyle stopped and watched the orange coated kid, "Dude, we're not gay! Plus, I lost my ring, in my room somewhere." The thought started to eat away at him though. Should he have hugged him. They were friends, right? There was no rule against that. But wouldn't that make Stan feel weird?

Sarcastic laughs came from the blonde boy, "Wake up, Kyle. If someone give their class ring to you, they have the hots for you." He walked a little faster, "I knew you two would tie the knot sooner or later." A proud smile appeared on his face.

Kyle shook his head, "No. Stan's my friend, that would just be weird. He doesn't like me like that. I think he did it because he didn't want to see me leave by myself." He folded his arms across his thin chest and gave a pouted look. If looks could kill, someone would be dying of laughter by now.

The poor boy stopped in front of the Jewish boy, causing him to stop too. He pointed his finger at the other boy's chest, "See? He didn't want to leave without you. Aw, ain't that sweet?" His smile grew wider, "Don't play dumb, there has to be more to this. Did you notice anything?"

"I don't know? It kind of looked like he was starring a lot… and smiling." That triggered a smile to form on his face too. Stan's was a lot cooler and calm. His was just stupid and shy, like he did not know what to do, "And he… sort of held my hands for a minute. Less than that." He was still playing with the ring he still wore. He could not leave the thing alone the whole time he was stuttering out what happened, "Not much, I told you."

"Not… much?" He echoed Kyle's last sentence with a doubtful sneer, "He couldn't take his eyes off you?" He pointed at his eye sockets where his orbital were, "And couldn't help but smile at your every feature?" He used his finger to draw an invisible happy mouth on his own face, "AND he held your hands, not wanting to forget the moment? …You call THAT nothing? Come on, dude! We better get you to a doctor to examine your brain! How could you miss all of those signs!" A devious grin formed now as he watched the other occupied himself with the ring, "I think you have a little thing for him too. You haven't stopped messing with the ring since you got it, haven't you?"

A dark red color blushed across the Jewish boy's face. Kenny could not be right. That would mean he was gay, which he was not. Never in a million years. Stan was his friend, nothing more, nothing less. "Shut up, Kenny. I didn't ask for your opinion." He walked around the boy, "I'm going home. See ya."

The boy just snickered, "Bye, need someone to talk to, I'm here." He waved going his own direction. Back to his shit hole of a house, but it was nice hearing about those two again. Maybe their friendship could be fixed. Cartman would not get a good vibe off it, but he could care less what he thought.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four: Make Your Cake, And Eat It Too

"Gay-dle! Gay-dle! Gaydle! I made you cause I'm gay! Gay-dle! Gay-dle! Gay-dle! With Gay-del I… am Gay!" Sang out the fat kid, formally known as Cartman. Again, not ever letting Kyle forget he is Jewish. Not only was his voice enough to shatter every window on the bus, he just ripped on the Hebrew song 'Dreidel,' With not much creativity may I add.

Kyle just took it, like it was nothing really. He sat slouched with his knees resting on the back of the seat in front of him. He had his headphones on and reading the chapter, he was suppose to read for English class, now. God forbid he miss an assignment and get bitched out by his mom. She was, in fact, one of the worst mom's on God's green Earth. Maybe that was why he was so paranoid half the time. He shrugged it off for now and continued his reading.

Eric was getting a little impatient. There he was making fun of the person he hated the most and he was not even paying attention. He was not half as fun seeing them annoyed as hell. Cartman was not the kind of person to make fun of someone behind their back, he would get up in their face and laugh at them personally. Just who he was. He had a mission, and that was to make everyone else's lives Hell. He snatched one of the headphones from the boy's ear, "What the hell's wrong with you, you stupid Jew? I'm trying to make fun of you're Jewish ass, but you're not listening!"

Kyle made a small pained noise as the ear piece was pulled from his ear. It scared him more than it hurt. Once he heard the Fat-ass's rants he reached for the ear-piece and spoke back, "I don't have time for this, dude! If I don't finished this Goddamn chapter, my mom's going to have my head!" He shoved the phone back into place and focused his eyes on the words on the paperback. Sometimes he wished Cartman would disappear. He looked back up and noticed the boy was gone. Was Eric Cartman leaving him alone? He used his hands to pull himself up and over to see if the boy was sitting in his seat. No, gone. Where…? He looked around the bus and saw him pointing and laughing at someone. He took the ear-piece out again and took a second glance at what the fat-ass was doing.

"Ey! Look! It's the two gay douches of our school!" Loud, obnoxious laughter came from him, and soon everyone on the bus. Who could he have been pointing at? And who was better to make fun of than Kyle?

In fact, it was two blonde boys sitting in the back seat. One was Kenny, obviously, he always sat there. The other kid had lighter blonde hair and a light blue shirt on. He looked really nervous and looked like Cartman's words were really effecting him.

Kenny stood with a displeased look on his face. "Dude, leave Butters alone. He didn't do SHIT to you!" A little defensive, was he not? Could he actually like the kid?

Kyle looked back at the shy kid. He had not seen Butters in what? Four, Five years now. Maybe he saw him, but did not pay attention to him really. Could he have come out of the closet and confess some feelings, or was it just a coincidence they were sitting next to each other. Probably. He was running into conclusions way too fast. Cartman made fun of everyone and called them a gay-tard.

"OOoooh!" The fat boy said in a sarcastic way, like the other's words were actually suppose to hurt his feelings, "Sorry. I'll leave you Ass Humpers alone then." His grin widened as he walked back to the seat in the front. Besides, he already humiliated them enough to which the bus drivers was even laughing, and she never smiles. Yes, this was defiantly a good feeling for Cartman. But he noticed one Jew who was not laughing. No wonder he hated Kyle. Never taking a joke, EVER!

Kyle knew the fat-ass was done now, He sat correctly in his own seat again and continued to read the horrifically boring chapter to some book called 'Fallen Angels.' It was seriously putting the kid to sleep trying to read it. I mean, who in their right mind would write this book. He laughed once, thinking that Stan's grandpa might. You would have to be old, insane, and want to kill yourself TO write it. War was not his thing. Books weren't his thing, period. If he did not have such a strict mom, he could probably go about his life like a normal teenager, but no.

There were so many rules in that house, but he could not leave. There was a rule about running away too. He even considered running away with his brother to Canada, but he found two problems with that. He would be leaving his friends behind and two, Canada sucked. So what does he do? Brush his teeth after every meal. Do his homework every night. Gets good grades in all of his classes, and for what? To be told you could do a lot better than that. He was still young. He did not want to be bored by the stupid things in life. That was not going to happen anytime soon. He would probably listen to his mother… forever.

Later in the day… at school…

"I'm telling you, this is a cheesey taco bite pan!" Cartman said, very annoyed with Kyle.

It was Home Economics, for the second year in a row. Why? Cartman had a reason for it. The two boys along with Token and Jimmy, sitting at a large round table. They were doing a worksheet, naming the stupid kitchen utensils. Sounds easy, right? Not when Eric Cartman had the pen and paper.

"Kyle, I know what I'm talking about! I make those things on this kind of pan all the time!" He began to write out his answer.

"That doesn't mean that's what it's called, Dumb-ass! You write down that answer and I'll call the teacher over here!" The Jewish boy shouted. He was not about to have his mom beat the shit out of him again for failing the easiest class in the world. Not to mention, the gayest class.

The fat-ass just ignored the boy yelling at him and finished his last word, then went to the next picture, "And this is a cheesey pizza bite pan."

"Goddamn it, Cartman! That's not the answer!" Kyle was really starting to get pissed of at Cartman's retarded-ness.

The fat boy's attention was lost after writing the word 'cheesey' and stared coldly at the boy with the big green hat thing, "Shut up, you fucking Jew! I know what I'm doing!" He finished writing and looked it over like he spelled out something great, "Plus, I make cheesey pizza bites on those kind of pan all the time. I wrote the answer last year, and got it right."

Kyle stood up and slammed his palms down on the round table, "No, you wrote it down last year and got it wrong! Change the answer, you stupid fat fuck!"

"Oh, what was that, Kyle? You agree with me? Ok, then. You'll probably agree that the next one is a fly swatter." Cartman searched through one of the kitchen drawer and took out a spatula, "You see, Kyle?" He examined it for a minute before swatting the Jew on the back of the head. It was not enough to hurt him, but that was the point, "Oh no, everyone! I killed the ugly fly!" He swatted him again, a little bit harder, "I'll make sure the last thing you see is your brains, coming out your eye sockets!" He laughed for a good five seconds before swatting the boy against the head a third time, "Just except your fate, you little Jew fly."

This really struck a nerve. He did not have time for his fat 'friend' today. He was sick and tired of being picked day after day by the boy, for a reason that did not even make sense. After the third hit to the head, he grabbed the kitchen tool out of the boy's hand and threw it on the ground and heard a creak. Weather it broke or not, he did not really care, "I swear to God, Cartman! Change the answers right now or I'll punch you right in you fucking fat face!" He was ready too. He stepped closer until the other boy was trapped in a corner between the counters. Meaning, he either changed the answers or get knocked out by this Jew.

Yellow gloved hands met the counter tops as he watched Kyle not amused. The Jewish boy was small but he could swing a punch. He knew that from personal experience. Maybe his words would get him out of this one. He could make his cake and eat it too. He always has, as you can tell. "Fine, Kyle. But before you do anything, I want to tell you. What if there were a gas leak. Hm?" A smirk appeared on his face.

The red-headed boy's fist tensed up more. The last thing he needed was to HEAR Cartman's voice right now, "Shut up and change it, you stupid son of a bitch!"

"Don't you see? What if there was a gas leak? Everyone would have to leave school, right?" The bigger boy folded his arms and kept the same expression on.

Kyle calmed a little as curiousness started to come over him, "What are you talking about, Cartman?" Still, that did not stop him from letting his guard down.

"You complain about not seeing your 'boyfriend,' Stan." That only made mischievous boy grin more and laugh a few times before continuing, "You let me keep my amazing right answers, and a gas leak mysterious happen, leaving school and football practice canceled. Man, I do feel bad for the people who have to miss that. Whatever will they do…" Cartman hinted as he finished his sentence, "With all that free time, Kyle?"

This left the Jewish boy go blank as his mind went through that thought. He looked back at the slightly taller, but obviously bigger boy in front of him. He backed away a little, "You wouldn't do that. You're too chicken." He knew that was a lie, but he did not want to sound like a pussy and say, 'Really? You'll really do that for me?' Yes, that would just be gay. Very… very… gay. He would probably get himself a really nasty comment afterwards too. Again, very… gay.

"Chicken?" Now that the boy had backed away, he knew he was in the clear. To make himself more comfortable, he lifted himself onto the counter, where he now sat. (Amazing how he did it. Don't know how he did it. He just did it. Lol.) He looked down at the boy, "I think not. Why would I lie when I would be giving myself a day off school." No matter what. There always had to be something in it for him.

"Fine." He said in defeat and picked up the paper and pen, giving it to Cartman, "But you have to do it, if you don't I'll kick you ass! Other than that, you can write down a fucking gummy bear maker next for all I care!"

The boy sitting on the counter smiled and took the pen and paper with victory, "Nice doing business with you, Kyle." The next thing he wrote, was, in fact, a gummy bear maker.

So, when all of this was going on, where the hell was the teacher? Guess she must not care much. But you would have to be pretty sad to be a home ec. teacher. Her dreams must not have gotten her far enough, but who cares!

The bell rang and all of the students rushed out of class, along with the Jewish boy, who was now lost in thought. Finally, a whole day to spend with his best friend. That sounded a little too good to be true. He just let Cartman screw him over again, didn't he? If school was out, there was a fat chance that he would spend it with him. Stan had a girlfriend. A clingy ass girlfriend. Yeah, he let Cartman screw him over. He shook his head and stopped at his locker, letting out an aggravated sound.

But did someone seem to notice him?

"Kyle! Hey!"

He knew that voice. It was…

"Stan." He turned around to see his best friend standing in front of him, "Hey, what are you doing here?" his friend never visits him by his locker. Well, never did until now. He placed his huge ass Home Economics book on the top shelf of his locker and focused his attention on Stan.

The black haired boy rested his forearm on the door of Kyle's locker, "What? I can't say hi to my best friend?" He offered a pleasant smile, before it faded as he heard someone had actually followed behind him, "Christ…"

"Stan! Stanly Marsh! Don't you dare ignore me!" The small black haired girl marched through the crowds of people, finally making it to her boyfriend's side, "You walked away right in the middle of me talking to you!" Her pouted face was small and cute, but she was pissed off that Stan was actually, God forbid, haning out with another human being that was not her, "Anyways, are we still going to Homecoming together Stany?" She tried her best to act flirty.

Any other guy would melt, but Stan really did not look like he was feeling it. He rubbed the back of his neck and searched for some words, "Ya know. I was thinking, how about I go with a group of friends and you go with a group of your friends. We'll meet up with each other and dance to a slow dance." To tell the truth, Stan was quickly getting annoyed by Wendy. She was like a leach. Clingy, and sucks any amount of fun out of a subject.

Wendy watched him in disbelief. "Are you… getting sick of me!" Jumping to conclusions, but it was the right one, "Are you… dumping me!" Now, that was a little too far.

He shook his head, "No, no. Just a… break at the dance. I know you're going to want to dance, and me. Well… not so much. It will probably be better for both of us." He was starting to get that sharp pain in his head again. He had been getting it a lot lately. From stress, or what. It was becoming really aggravating.

Wendy could only stare at him with big wide eyes, "St-Stan. We were suppose to… go together." Those eyes were suddenly hidden away by her eyelids as tears fell from them, "You'll never live this down, Stanly Marsh!" She turned and began running away, passed the crowds of children.

The black haired boy's head bowed a little and placed both his index finger and thumb to the pressure between his eyelids, "Crap. That didn't go as great as I hoped." Almost forgetting that his friend was by his side, he turned to him. Those strong eyes seemed to give off a guiltily look.

Kyle was almost afraid to look at him. He hated Wendy and wanted her gone, but this was a little too much. But what did he expect. If they were going to break up one, or in this case both, would be heart broken, "Sorry, dude." He felt the other's gaze on him, but he still could not get himself to stare back.

"Its alright. I had a feeling it would have happened soon anyways." Stan shook his head. He must have looked pathetic if his best friend was not even looking at him. In his mind, he was the most awful friend and boyfriend now. If he could, he would punch himself in the face, "Thanks anyways." He looked towards a classroom, his obvious next class. "I need to get going." He reached his hand over to Kyle's and gave the finger with the ring a light squeeze between two of his fingers. They were so small. He was surprised that the ring would even fit. He let go and gave his friend one last glance, "Don't lose it." He motioned towards his classroom.

This left Kyle standing there, watching his friend walk away. He looked down at the red gemmed ring and answered to himself, "I won't. I promise, dude." He went back to his locker and grabbed a random text book for the next random class he had to go to. What left him a little uneasy was, that he could actually remember himself blushing and smiling as Stan held his hand.

It did not leave him wondering for too long. The warning bell rang through the now empty hallways. "Jesus Christ, dude! I'm going to be late for my next class!" He sprinted off with the book in his arms and something confusing in his head.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five: Two Plus Two Equals Us?

Sitting down in math class, Kyle sat down bored as hell. It was not really helping that it was dark and the overhead was on. Yes, the most boring part of math class. Taking notes. It is the most God awful thing in the world and will make any calm person become A.D.D.

Kyle's notebook was open, to a page that looked like a jumble of number. If he ever looked back at it, it would not make sense. Did not matter anyways. He seemed to know how to do it already. He was only worried about keeping the heat of his face under control. Thank God it was so dark, no one could see him. Well, the different tint in his cheeks at least.

An elbow hit his upper arm.

It was Kenny. Ironically, he was in his math class. He gave a smile to his and tosses a folded piece of paper to him.

Kyle, naturally, unfolded it and read it. He had nothing better to do anyways. It was not like he was paying attention to the overly excited math teacher of his. Yet, another sad soul of the world. He wondered, were all teachers crazy? He shoved the question to a side and reread the note, since it did not register through his brain the first time.

'So, you tie the knot with you-know-who, yet?'

The boy with the green hat turned slightly to give an evil look at his friend. He wanted to shout the answer to him right there, but could not. He would earn too much attention from the students and the teacher. Sure enough, he did not want this conversation going out into public. He picked his pencil up and began writing his own set of words before sliding it back and behind him, to Kenny's desk.

The poor boy gave a pleased look and picked the square paper up and unfolded it. His eyes scanned over the words and let out a sigh.

'Dude, I told you. We're just friends!

Every time Kyle spoke about Stan, even if its only been a day or two, Kenny could tell the Jew had the hots for the star football player. He wrote down something and crumbled the paper up and threw it at that large stupid green hat of his friend's.

It hit and, as luck would have it, it fell right in front of him, wide open. The sentence starring right at him made him tense and extremely pissed off.

'Dude, You're gay! Confess!'

He turned and gave Kenny a full out death glare. He would have thrown a few punches and a couple words his way, but it was not him to get in trouble. There was no way in hell he was going to have a parent teacher conference about this. If he was gay, which he's not, his mom would kill him for it.

Kenny returned the stare and whispered, "Admit it! You love him!"

Blood started rising to his head even more than his usual out breaks. He did not know if the statement made him embarrassed or if he was pissed off beyond belief. He whispered back, "I do not!" Of course, he looked both ways before, seeing if anyone was ease dropping on them. No one.

"Dude! He likes you back! He broke up with Wendy!" His voice began to rise a little, but it got no one else's attention.

"He's taking a break! He just wants to hang out with his friends at Homecoming!" His voice began to rise as well. Some students looked over, but none were that interested.

"His friends! Meaning: YOU! Don't you see? He broke up with her to go with YOU!" The boy in the orange hooded jacket, looked around and saw he got more students attention, but only lowered his voice a bit, "And you won't stop playing with that ring he gave you! You're getting an A in this class. Meaning, you should know YOU plus Stan equals perfect couple!"

What was making Kyle even more made is how all of the evidence given to him was starting to sound right. Sound so real. So true. Things could not be falling into place like this? Could it? Not after all of these years. He stood up from his seat, not being able to hold in his anger anymore, "I DON'T LIKE STAN!"

Everyone stopped what they were doing and just starred at the Jewish boy. Some laughing at him the others confused at what was going on. The teacher even stopped and snapped out of her over happy mood. She gave him a blunt stare and spoke out, "Is there a problem, Mr. Broflovski?" It was obvious she was talking to Kyle, since that was his last name.

The boy just stood in place, not believing what he just did. He looked down at Kenny for help, but it was a waste because he was laughing at him too and mouthing the words, 'I told you so.' He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, turning to sit back down in his seat, "No ma'am." He gave off a depressed look and stared at whatever was outside, trying to ignore the students around him. Was today over? …Or was it only third period?

On the other side of school, stood the gym. It was P.E. for some students and one of those students was Stan Marsh. He was having his own problems. Girl problems. Ever since the 'break up' with Wendy, every girl in school has come up to him and asked him out. It was getting really annoying the sixteenth time in a row. He did not even give one of them a chance or even a second glance. It seemed like he was loosing interest in 'dating.' Or maybe he has not found the right person for him.

He jumped and threw the basketball up and it went inside the basket with a perfect SWOOOSH sound. Sports would usually get him in a better mood, but not today. His headache was worse than ever. It felt like someone was hammering away at his skull. He cursed himself for not taking any medicine, but he was never really a complainer. He had not been thinking straight to begin with. He placed his hand over his face, "Why the hell would I give Kyle my class ring? He's… Kyle." He squeezed his fingers harder against his head.

He looked up again and noticed kids running out of the gymnasium. Not wanting to feel left out, he followed. Where could they possibly be going? The line of students led outside crossing the street and standing on the other side.

Getting out of school would have been great… if he was not wearing a short sleeve gym uniform. He was freezing cold, but did not show it. It was probably a fire drill and it would not last too much longer. He could stand it for right now.

Overhearing some of the kids around him, he only picked up a few words, but 'gas leak' seemed to stand out. Meaning, he was going to have to go home like this. He crossed his arms more to keep warm, but look like he was bored. He shook his head, could anything else go wrong?

His gaze lifted up as he felt something warm brush against his shoulders. His eyes fell to it and he could see orange with a little green. It was a coat. Kyle's coat.

He turned and looked at his friend as if he were shocked to see him or something. He was going to have to be out there with him. With everyone. The whole school was out there by now. Of course Kyle was going to be there.

The small Jewish boy smiled at his friend, now only wearing a plain white T-shirt. "You look kind of cold, dude." He said in a cheerful tone. For once, he was happy with something Cartman had done. But he was still embarrassed about what happened in the classroom. Thank God he was saved by the emergency exit. Maybe the fat ass was not so bad after all, then again, he would not give his hopes up.

"Um… Thanks," Stan shot a smile back at him, but tugged the jacket off and held it towards Kyle, "But what about you? No, put it back on. I'm not going to have you blaming me if you get sick." That smile faded into something serious. It was nice to know that he was cared for, but seeing his friend in the state he, himself, was in, would not satisfy him at all.

Kyle just looked down at his gift, his own coat, that was rejected. Was it something he did? Something he said? Or was he just pushing too hard. He sighed once as his breath lingered in the air and floated up, disappearing into the sky. He opened his mouth to say something, but a teacher began to speak out to the crowd of children.

"Everyone is South Park High. Please stay calm. Everything is under control. There is a minor gas leak. To ensure everyone's safety, we will call your parents to pick you up, unless you normally walk or drive to school. For now, stay put until we have done so."

Stan walked around his friend and took the coat in his hands to put it on the boy's shoulders, "Come on, I'm not waiting out here all day." He reached to the other's hand and held it as he began to tug him away from the crowd of people.

Kyle willingly followed, even if it might get him in trouble. This would be one of the few exceptions to disobeying the rules. If it was not Stan, he would have stayed and listened to instructions, but why give up a day that he spent for a worksheet full of wrong answers?

After they were a few blocks away, Kyle got up the courage to walk a little faster so he was side-by-side with his best friend. He was getting a little worried. Stan was really shivering now. It was not fair. Why did Kyle have so much free time and Stan none? Why did Kyle get a big house, while Stan got a regular size one? And most importantly, why did Kyle get the coat and Stan get nothing?

The Jewish boy moved in closer and wrapped his arm around the frozen boy. The other one fixed his coat so it was over one of his own shoulders and also on Stan's. Something inside his chest began to pound. It hurt at first, but it soothed down after awhile. He looked up at his friend, to make sure he was doing the right thing, "Share?"

Stan's gaze fell on his friend as a wide smile formed on his face. Since his cheeks were already red and burned with the icy air, it would be impossible to see he was blushing. He felt it though. It felt like the cold around him was melting away, just by a single touch of Kyle's arm, "Share."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six: In the Process

There Wendy stood, watching as her so-called boyfriend left with his best friend. It seemed like Kyle was getting in the middle of everything lately. Why all this, all of a sudden? It made no sense. Now, she would not be able to live down going to Homecoming alone. She told everyone she was going with Stan.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't the little skank," Cartman's voice reached through the crowds of kids, but it was not long until he was seen. Since his usual target was nowhere to be see, he would find a new one especially after what he accomplished. He felt like rubbing it in someone's face. The closest person to him.

The raven haired girl hardly flinched when she was called out by Cartman. All noises were drained out and she could feel those same tears from before, except now, they just left her cheeks cold from the bitter winds outside, "He left me." She spoke out softly, then became louder, "He really left me."

This was unusual for the boy to hear. He was use to hearing shouts and curses his way, but this was all he got. He watched with disappointment at first, but noticed she was not kidding about being down.

Real tears? Over what? Stan Marsh. What backbone did he have? Why is he so great? How many years did it take to finally stop throwing up on her? She still liked the barf bag?

He went to her side, glancing at her once, but watched as if there was something more interesting to watch in front of them, "He must be on creak or something," His arms folded behind his back, "Dumping the most popular girl in school." A grin appeared, "I could help, for a price."

Her face was hidden behind her thick black bangs. She did not want to look up. Her eyes were probably leaking black eye-liner and red and puffy. Still, Cartman's statement made her think twice, "What could you possibly do to make this any better?"

One simple sentence he had been repeating ever since he was about nine or ten years old, "Kill Kyle."

Meanwhile, the two best friends made it to the older one's house. Same house, nothing was out of the ordinary, unlike Kenny's. Where you could pick out a handful of different things. Normal house. Normal driveway. Normal lawn.

They had already made their way inside. His parents were not home, they were working at their jobs today. Stan's dad is a geologist and his mom a receptionist at Tom's Rhinoplasty. After their son got old enough, they started working more hours. As for Shelly, she was not home. Nobody really cared where she was, as long as she was far away. Even without her God awful braces, she is still a total bitch.

Kyle was laying down on the front room couch as he waited for his friend, who was now up in his room, obviously changing into some warmer clothes. He flipped through the channels on the T.V., still wearing just his white tank top, since he insisted on giving up his coat because Stan looked a lot colder walking inside. He yawned a bit and rested his cheek to his palm. He liked his friend's house a lot better than his own. Calmer and quieter. It made him tired. He figured he could shut his eyes for a couple minutes before he…

"Dude!" Stan threw the orange jacket over his friend's head, "I'm the one who's suppose to be tired, not you." He made a seat in between two stretched out legs, that was his friend's. It gave his ass just enough room to sit down and his own legs hanging over one that was closest to the edge. He snatched the remote from the other's grip.

The Jewish boy struggled to get out of the orange mess of cloth. After his head was free he stared coldly at his friend. What was that about? It was not like he did anything wrong. He opened his mouth to spout out one of his 'What the Hell, dude!'-s, but was cut off way before he could.

A few clicks came from the object resting in the other's grasp before actually speaking out, "Well, I have the whole day, dude." He leaned back a little and used the arm that was not in use as a head rest, "What do you want to do?" He took a quick glance at him after finishing.

Kyle flashed a smile his way, and opened his mouth once again as if he knew exactly what to say, but did he really? He wanted this day for a long time now, but now that it has come, how would he spend it. It took some thought before he could get anything out, "I… um… We could…" His finger reached his chin, and bit down at it a little. Why could he not think of one thing to do?

A smile went across Stan's face, observing the other's expression. Truly, a picture worth a thousand words. That certain confusion reminded him of Kyle's childishness again. So small, pure. What he would not give to actually tell that to his face. Even the simple word 'cute' would sound gay. How were you suppose to tell your friend they made you happy beyond all reasons, or were you not suppose to like a friend that much? He used an arm to lean upon it, accidentally resting on a teal pant leg. He did not look, but he noticed the warmth from it. Did he dare take it away?

"I… Just…" Kyle continued, until he fell silent. His friend's hands was laying on the inner portion of his leg. The spot there, tingled numb, then grew hot, as did his face. His mouth was flying, but no sound came from it. He could not take his eyes away from the part he was being touched. It was not doing anything, but that was taunting him even more than if it was. Seconds, minutes, hours passed by, just looking at that hand. Why was it not doing anything! It should not be there! Not without a purpose! It felt good, but, God, would it feel even better if it was actually moving. Actually soothing. Actually rubbing. It felt like he had to pee so Goddamn bad, but he did not for some reason. His mouth still was not under his control yet. When would this one way torture end. He fell back in a laying position as his arms covered his reddened face, a loud exsosasted noise came from him. It was not fair.

Stan's smile widened as he examined his friend some more. What was he getting so worked up about? Just because he could not think of anything to do? The hand that laid on the other's leg twitched a little, "You ok, dude?" He said, not in a worried way. More amused.

A gagged whimper came from Kyle as he felt the touch stoke for a split second. He uncovered his face after he noticed words were being thrown at him, "No…" He whispered, but then sat up, "Yeah, I'm fine." He did not want to look at him, nor did he want him to look at himself. He felt so embarrassed by this. It was one stupid hand!

Stan nodded and finally stood up, and of course, his hand lifted off from the other's leg. "Let's just go for a walk, we'll think of something." He placed his unoccupied hands into his brown jacket pockets and waited for his friend to respond.

The weight was lifted. It was as if he could breath again. He sat up and looked towards the boy who was already to go, "Ok," He simply said and stood up.

The boy with the blue hat went to the door and opened it, but did not walk out just yet. He was, in fact, holding the door open for his best friend, "Well, come on."

Kyle's brows curved down, "I am." He was not going to be bossed around. No chance in hell. Except if it was by his mom, then that's a different story. He made his way out the door and saw that his friend followed. Thinking for a moment, he turned around to Stan, "Oh! I forgot!" Something clicked in his head, but as he turned around, his friend was a lot closer than he thought… not to mention a lot taller too. His words went to another hault, as he soaked in the other's eyes. Blue? Since when were Stan's eyes blue. I really deep blue. He never really paid attention to that before. He wanted to tear the vision of his friend away, but he could not.

Stan had just shut the door too. Coming in contact so close with no escape. His back was practically glued to the door, starring down at Kyle. Those green eyes were stabbing at him and not giving up. Wait, they're green? He never dreamt to think about what color they were. After seeing them close up, they were one of the cutest things about him. So bright and colorful, just like his personality. His arms hovered around the boy, not sure if he wanted to actually take him into his arms yet. He would feel like an idiot if he was pushed away.

Kyle took a step forward as if he were commanded to. He could not get enough of those deep dark pools. They were so protective and honest. His vision ventured lower. Now, wishing that they should not have. Oh, God. He was starring at something even more irresistible then his eyes. His lips. They were even parted so perfectly, and the breath that came from it was unusually sweet. He had this weird hunger in his stomach to taste them. With a scent like that, he needed to know how all of it felt.

Stan noticed that the other had stepped closer. He finally got enough courage to rest his arms around, giving a slight squeeze to the back. White puffs of air came from both their mouths, which led him to watch kyle's mouth. Oh shit! It was over now. Not only was he taking in those white breath clouds, he was starring at his lips. Why did they have to be so cute, too? Soft, shinny. What gave it that smooth shined look? They were so pure, and so untouched. He was punching himself in the face for even thinking this. He leaned in a little, taking more eager gulps of Kyle's air.

That was it! Kenny was right! Stan did want this as much as him! He quickly leaned in, then, thought. What if he was wrong? What if this is not real? He would loose Stan as a friend forever. That would totally suck ass. Taking a detour, his head tapped the brow line of his friend. He turned away, and squirmed his way out of the other's hold. Two more seconds like that and everything would be over.

Stan just stood there, still. As if frozen in place. Not only did he get a rejected head butt, he was left standing there. He felt like an idiot. His head began pounding like it did before and whispered a few curse words before shoving his two fingers in between his eyes to relieve the pressure. He almost did it. He almost kissed his friend. His best friend. His best friend who was a BOY!

Kyle forgot what he had forgotten from before. Whatever it was, if could probably wait until they got back home.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven: Fall Into Place

"What the hell are you talking about, Cartman? You can't kill Kyle! And how would that help this situation?" Wendy sniffed once from her crying, but was more angry with the boy in front of her at this moment.

Cartman buffed his so-called fingernails on his red coat and watched the girl with a grin, "Didn't you know, Wendy. They're fags. They like to hump each other's asses." He made a snorting noise, as if to hold in a laugh.

They were still outside, waiting for the ok from a teacher. Half the students from gym class already froze to death. They sure were taking their sweet ass time at getting the situation under control. Then again, the schools never did have any control over any situation.

The black haired girl grew silent for a moment after watching a frozen student hit the snowy ground. But it was not long before she was looking at Cartman again, "No, they don't. You just saying that." A hand went to her hip, increasing her glare on him.

The boy shrugged and turned his back to her, "Well, if you don't believe me." He left it at that as he began to walk away. In his head he counted down from three. After one…

"Cartman!" She shouted to him. She looked down, feeling stupid for even slightly considering it. She took a breath in and spoke again, "Give me proof." She whispered.

The large boy shopped and looked back, just a little, "What was that, Wendy?" He asked, pretending that he did not hear her the first time.

She answered right after, "Give me proof, and you can kill Kyle." She felt stupid for even giving such permission, since Cartman would probably do whatever he felt like doing anyways, "If Stan and Kyle are gay, and you prove it to me. I'll let you kill Kyle." Her stare went to the boy, wanting an answer.

He was pleased. Very pleased. His grin grew wider, as he turned around. Another victory for him, "Will do, Wendy. Will do." He said, in a soft evil-like voice, before taking his true steps away from the school grounds.

"Oh God, dude! St-stop, Stan!" Kyle panted harder, feeling as if his lungs would burst at any moment, "You're too fast! Slow down!" He felt like he was going to die. Just keel over and die right there. Beads of sweat ran down his pale, red stained face. His body finally just went limp.

"Dude! There's no way you can tag me! You're still it!" Stan shouted from a couple yards away from his now collapsed friend.

The ground smelled of old oak wood and his cheek rested on splintery wood chips that scattered the whole radius of the small park. He held himself up, so his face could be seen by the other boy, no matter the distance, "That's no fair! You do spots and stuff! How am I suppose to tag you!" Kyle blurted out, angry as ever.

Stan smiled more, knowing that statement was true. Kyle was unbearably thin. Too skinny for his own good, but it was fun to watch him try. He finally gave in and let his friend have a break, as he jogged over to the boy's side. Once there, he held out his hand, to help his fallen friend.

Kyle spit out, what seemed to be a dirty wood chip and placed his hand inside the other's palm, watching the red mittens wrap around it. He was pulled up, without much effort of Stan's part. "Thanks, dude." He said, not looking towards his face at all. Instead, focusing in on the ground, where he use to be laying.

Stan nodded and let go, seeing as he got no gratification for it. He sighed and walked over to the swing set and sat on one, resting his feet on the ground as he pushed himself back and forth gently. There was something different about Kyle today. Then again, they have not exactly 'hung out' for God knows how many months. Maybe his friend changed since then. But Kyle looks so scared now. He would hug him, but not only is that gay, it would probably scare him more. "Something wrong, dude?" He had to ask. It was just who he was. He never liked seeing Kyle like that.

It was as if Kyle were daydreaming and he had been knocked out of it hard when the question was shot his way. His eyes widened as if he saw a ghost, then rested a little as he gave an answer, "Yeah, dude. Fine." His gaze fell down again as he was holding onto his arms, practically cradling himself.

A concerned look crashed onto Stan's eyes as those dark eyebrows curved down. Was he being kept away from something? It kind of hurt since he was the boy's best friend. He was still his best friend, right? He spoke out sternly as he pointed to the swing next to him, "Sit down, Kyle."

A green orb watched from the corner of his eyes, watching the empty seat that was now claimed as his. He swallowed hard before walking timidly over to it and finally sitting. Unlike Stan's feet that reached the ground, his hung loosely, his tip toes just barely missing the line. He felt as if he were in trouble, because Stan directly used his first name instead of just saying 'dude.'

Once his friend was seated, Stan motioned so the chains of the swing would criss-cross and he was facing his friend, "Something's wrong. Are you sick? I didn't mean to make you run so fast." He felt kind of guilty. If that was the reason, he would kick himself for it. His amusement and Kyle's health were two totally different subjects. His small friend had been through a few life threatening times, and he really did not want to loose him.

Kyle could use that excuse, but it would not change the fact that it felt like he was lying to him. He could not. He did not have the heart. He did not get out much, but he managed, "Kenny."

"Oh," Stan knew who he was. The only Kenny really in South Park. Poor Kenny. Old childhood friend Kenny. Gay Kenny, "What about him?"

Kyle griped the chains hard, feeling it in his knuckles; knowing they are white, "Don't tell Cartman, dude." He watched his black shoes hover over the ground, "I stopped by his house. I went to talk to him."

"Yeah? What about?" Stan tried to make it sound like not a big deal, for Kyle's sake. Probably hard to tell someone who was making fun of the kid for being a fag. He some-what regrets that now a days. But why go to him? What did they talk about? What were they doing?

"You and I were fighting, dude," The green hat boy watched Stan, "I was scared." He shook his head and looked now at the other boy's feet. Kind of jealous about the height difference, but he pushed that to a side, making a mental note so he could worry about it later. He continued, "I didn't know who to turn to."

He really did hurt him because of that stupid fight. Not only did he hurt him physically, but mentally too? He truly did hate himself for being a sucky friend right now. The hard part now, was to say something back. "Its ok." He said, as lame and plain as that sounded. It was the only thing he thought up.

Kyle looked at him, "You're not mad? I was sure you would beat me for that." What kind of punishment was that? There it was again. Stan could forgive him so easily. And it felt reassuring that he got approval from him as well. He bet, if he robbed a bank and shot a bunch of people, Stan would still approve of it and not get mad. He smiled lightly. He had the best friend in the whole world.

The black haired boy smiled brightly, "Of course not. I would never do that." He put his hand on top of his friend's head and twisted his hat back and forth. Almost like a hat noggy. He was so happy to see Kyle smile again, even if it was small.

"Hey!" The Jewish kid whined as friction was placed upon his head. Once it was over, small curls of red hair stuck out from it. He folded his arms and gave a pouted look.

Stan's smile still remand as peach lids laid halfway on his deep blue eyes. He reached over to the chain that was holding up Kyle's swing and brought it towards himself. His lips reached the green flap that was connected to the other's hat, where an ear was hidden, and brushed across the fabric, "Dude, you're so…" Before finishing what he whispered, he planted a small kiss on a pale freezer burned cheek.

Green eyes opened wide as he felt the soft touch hit his face. His blood boiled and felt like it was bleeding out of his cheeks. He scurried out of his seat, but was a little too successful as he fell backwards, landing on his back. "D-dude! You… YOU!" Forgetting his pain for a second, he pointed accusingly at Stan.

The boy shrugged, "So, we're friends, right? It's alright to love you, like a brother." He leaned back a little so his face was next to Kyle's, except up-side-down, "That is, if it's alright with you." He made what he did sound so innocent and alright. He would be shot dead if it was to happen out in public though. The word fag would be written on his face and people would start throwing empty beer bottles at him. Thank God they were not out in public.

Was it alright with Kyle. He had to ask the same question to himself. It was kind of hard to think when his friend was so close, looking right at him. He looked up at his legs. One was still on the swing. He looked at Stan's legs. They were long and looked as if there was so much strength in them. He looked so weak compared to him. His gaze finally reached his face again. "Yeah," He squirmed his fallen body forward and gave a small peck on his friend's cheek. It was warmer than he thought. It actually made his lips tingle. He blushed and gave him a smile, "As long as I can, too."

There was that innocent smile again. It made Stan high and felt like everything around him sparkled. He licked his chapped lips wanting to ruin that smile with a kiss. He wanted to taste that smile that was making him so fucking high right now. He wanted to bite it and make it his. Urging to slide his tongue across those pearly whites. His day dreaming was running too wild for him though. He almost felt ashamed that he was dreaming about making out with Kyle right there. He pulled himself up and sat as he pinched at the arch between his eyes, "Aw." He whispered, without the other hearing him. He was actually disgusted with himself to even think that. Knowing, Kyle's mouth was just an invasion waiting to happen.

Kyle was actually starting to fell his fall now. He picked himself up and felt that his neck was a little sore too. He stretched and began to walk, "So, what now?" He asked. It really should be his turn to pick because it was Stan's idea to play tag, but he could not think of anything else really, and it was only two. He did not exactly want to start heading to the movies yet. It sucked ass going to the movies in the day time and coming out to have your eyes be blinded to death by the sun.

Stan shrugged still getting some mental pictures out of his head. He stood up and began to walk with him though. He looked the boy over again. He was so fragile looking. Why? No one else looked that way to him. He felt the need to protect him all the time. He always looked like he would break, mentally and physically. He would get mad so easily. It was probably because of his bossy mom. But that burst of anger can really get him in trouble, and that was what Stan was worried about.

Kyle shivered. He felt the temperatures drop from the time they got there. He grabbed his arms in a defense to keep himself warm, but it had no real effects. He eyed Stan. How does he stay so warm? He was so jealous of that too. He wanted to be strong like that, but he could not. No matter how much he tried. He stopped, his shutters getting worse, "I have to stop."

Another one of his sick daydreams was disturbed as he looked behind him, "Kyle?" He walked over to him, watching the small boy trying to keep warm, "Something wrong?" He did not want to touch him just yet. What if he was pushed away again?

"Fr-freezing," Kyle stuttered out and walked forward, resting his head on Stan's warm chest. Nothing else, just his head. It looked weird, yes. But they were only friends, right? Certain boundaries can not be crossed.

The taller boy looked around. There were not any buildings in sight. Nothing really, but the damn park. What the hell was he suppose to do about his friend? He sighed and wrapped his arms around him, not caring about damn boundaries right now. He rubbed his back and shoulders, trying to keep him warm, "Come on, dude. You'll be even colder if you just stand here. We'll go to my place."

While everyone else was out playing today, there was someone working hard. Hard at work to think of a plan that would, in fact, kill Kyle. Cartman, on his front porch, bit the pink portion of his pencil, where the eraser was and looked at the sky, thinking. How could he get those fags (Stan and Kyle) to actually look gay? Because without that, Wendy would not agree and there would be a witness, and she did not exactly have a small mouth.

He scratched out another set of words that was lingering on the notebook paper. He held the writing utensil between his middle and index finger and rested his cheek to his palm, "This is a lot harder than I thought." He gave a more aggravated look, but faded into a bored look. He was starting to think he should not have told Wendy about the whole thing, but if he did this for her, maybe he would actually get a fighting chance with her. Especially, with Stan out of the picture now. A shadow hovered over the thinking boy, causing him to look up.

"When are you going to give up, E-Eric?" The blonde haired boy from the bus ride earlier said, standing right in front of him.

"Butters! Get out of my light, asshole!" Cartman complained, as if that were the reason he could not think of anything.

The pale blue coated boy sat down next to the bigger kid and tried to sneak a peak at the notebook in the other's hands, failing horribly. He could guess what he was doing though. The only think he has even seen Cartman sit down and actually try to accomplish was finding new ways of killing Kyle, "D-do you really hate Kyle th-that much, Eric?"

"Yes," He switched his position so that boy could only see the back of the book, as he tried to concentrate on what else he would put. The pencil was not doing much, just doodles of circles and swirlies.

"Wh-why?" The shy boy said, fiddling with his fingers.

"Christ, Butters! Can't you see I'm busy? Go annoy someone else!" Cartman spouted, leaning his back further into whatever he was resting against. He tapped the pencil against his chin and glared at the boy who did not seem to be moving, "Unless, you can think of a way to make it look like Stan and Kyle are fucking fags with each other."

The blonde boy just gave a confused look at him, "….Wh-why do you want them to look like fags?"

"Because, you dick hole!" Cartman stood up and threw the notebook, along with the pencil, to the ground and stared hard at Butters, "Then, I can show it to Wendy, and I can kill Kyle for her!" He said, as if the boy was with him when all of this happened, but he was not.

"W-well," He though for a moment, "How about you record them, th-that way you can only get their voices."

The brown haired boy watched the other with a bored look, "Exactly, how will that work?" It was a start. It was better than little doodles, but he would never admit that.

"Th-think about it, Eric." He stopped, as if he had to think about it himself, "Maybe you d-don't need Stan and Kyle. Maybe, all you need, is two people who sound like them." He shrugged, coming to the conclusion that it was a horrible idea, "Never mind, it was stupid."

A spark went through Cartman's head. "Genius!" An evil look went across his face, "That's it! You're a fucking genius!" With that said, he ran back inside, leaving the other boy on his porch. He had the sweetest idea ever. EVER!


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight: H-E-Double Hockey Sticks

Back with Stan and Kyle. The two boys were really having trouble getting back. For some reason it looked like the Jewish boy did not have the strength to walk or anything. Every other step he would stumble and Stan would have to rush over to his side and help him.

Which is what he was doing right now. He placed his hands on his friend's shoulders and watched him carefully, "Dude, are you alright?"

Loosing his balance, Kyle leaned forward a bit, but sure enough looked up and smile at him (To the best of his ability). Why was he feeling so run down? He felt stupid having Stan help him so much. It kind of made him feel worthless. The truth was, he was dizzy and freezing his ass off more than usual. Maybe he had a cold, but if he did, today would be ruined. He stood up without the other's help, "It's alright, dude. I'm fine." He had to be strong right now. He could be sick later.

Stan gave him a good stare before he continued to walk. This was starting to give him a queasy feeling in his stomach. He did not like that there was something wrong with his friend and he could not really do anything about it.

Kyle watched as Stan began to walk again. He needed to do this. If he was sick, he would be stuck at home and Stan would have to leave too. He did not want that. He took a step forward, then a couple more. He was holding out alright. He took a couple more. He was proud, as if he never walk before, but he spoke too soon. The grogginess rushed over him and his muscles began to ache. He could not keep his pace and gravity had its way on him, falling face first into the snow. He did not do it. He could not. He felt so hopeless. He buried his face inside the crystals on ice under him and let the tears leak from his eyes. He wished Stan would keep walking without him. Forget he was there so he would not have to see him like this. It was not fair.

Stan heard the body hit the ground. It sounded pretty hard too. He turned around to see it was Kyle! The boy ran over to his fallen friend and kneeled down, "That's it, Kyle! I'm carrying you the rest of the way!" He was starting to get really worried. Once he put his hand near the other's face, it was slapped away, "Kyle?" He rubbed his hand as if it were actually injured, and looked at the back of his friend's green hat, which was the only thing close enough to his face.

The Jewish boy controlled his voice for a minute so he could speak, "No, I can do it! I can walk!" It was passed him why he was yelling. Maybe it was his frustration, but he did not mean to speak that way to his best friend.

"No you can't," Stan protested, "If you could, you would. I know you, dude. I should take you home." What was hurting him so much? The fact that Kyle would not let him help, or he could not stop him from hurting.

"I'm not going home!" Kyle whined, immediately as he heard that. He knew that was what it meant, but he did not want it to happen. He could not even believe this was happening. Out of all the days. Was this God's punishment for making a deal with Cartman? He did not care, as long as he was punished after today. He could be dead for all he cared. He just wanted this day. Just this one day.

Stan just simply sighed. There was no arguing with the boy. He wrapped his arms around him and picked his friend up, bridal style. One arm holding his upper back, while the other had his legs. He held him close to his chest, to give the other an opportunity to hide his face. He knew Kyle was crying, he never liked pointing it out though. Plus, it would not help Kyle even if he did. He began to walk once more, holding his small, fragile friend with each step.

He felt that he was being moved, but it did not feel real. It was more like a dream, and fuzzy memory. His face met the brown coat, digging as much into it as he could. His fingers grabbed a hold of anything as he let a few sobs go as he began to soak a small patch of the jacket. He choked more and released a few silent shutters. He could not be broken about this? It was so small. A stupid cold was not something people go too upset about. Not to a point of sudden breakdown at least. This was something much more. What if Kenny was right?

"So? So? SO?! Tell me what happened after that!" Kenny spouted, eagerly. It was the next day. The bus stop. The hooded boy finally got the courage to actually wait at his correct stop again, that was only because Kyle was there with him and the fat ass has yet to show up.

Kyle answered with a sigh, "Then, nothing. I did not even get to say good-bye. I fell asleep right in his arms. I'm guessing he put me up in my room and I woke up to my alarm clock a few hours ago." He looked down. So much for a whole day with Stan. That had to be, by far, the worst day of his life.

The blonde haired boy shrugged, "Its not that bad, dude. He probably even gave you a little bed time kiss." He puckered his lips, but soon laughed after his sentence.

"No way!" Kyle shouted, furious at this point. Now, his face had to be all shades of red. It did not matter. By now, he did not care if Kenny knew he had a thing for Stan, as long as he did not tell anyone. It was just easier to deny it, then telling him about how much he wanted him. He was still trying to get comfortable with telling that to himself.

"Yes way!" Kenny smiled brightly. That is, until an unfriendly face came into view, "Shit.." He whispered and stood straight and forward, not saying another word while he tried to tie his hood a little tighter. This was a habit he had when he was nervous or scared.

The Jewish boy stopped, noticing his friend's change of mood. He managed to look over his shoulder and seeing Eric Cartman walking their way. He turned his gaze back on the blonde boy, "Don't worry, dude. Just ignore him."

"Well, good morning. If it isn't my two best friends," Cartman chimed, obviously being sarcastic. He put his attention to Kyle first, "Jew and," Then, to Kenny, "Fag-boy." He stopped once he was close enough to the yellow bus stop sign, "Hooray."

For once, Kyle held his tongue. He looked at the brown slush on the street. It looked nasty as hell, but it was way better than staring at Cartman.

The fat boy's voice went louder, "Won't this be great? We can light candles, play dreidel, and hump each other's ass holes! This will be so much fun!" Again, his overly happy sarcastic tone of voice. He could not help, but laugh at his own cruel joke.

"Shut up, fat ass!" It did not take much to get under Kyle's skin, especially if that other person was Cartman, "Its not like you have any friends!" He kept his eyes closed tight, as well as his fists. Bottling up anger was not Kyle's strongest point.

"I don't need any friends, because there is no better friend than me." His hand went proudly to his chest, as he talked about himself in a natural manner.

The Jewish boy glared hard at Cartman about to shout something else, when a muffled come back went to Cartman instead.

"You don't need any friends because all of you, Cartman, equals twelve people," Obviously it was exaggerated, but it was meant to. He looked straight ahead of him, not looking at the boy who he was speaking to. He looked calm, _looked_.

The larger boy was surprised that Kenny actually had the guts to say anything to him, more or less a come back. He tilted his head and gave him a look, "What was that, faggot?"

Kenny said nothing.

"I thought so," Cartman said, victoriously.

The hooded boy spoke out again, "I feel sorry for you. You don't have any friends, do you?" He closed his sky blue eyes, thinking on the subject. Cartman acts so high and mighty, but not even a turd could look up to him.

The large boy stomped his foot forward, only causing Kyle to flinch. He looked as if he were going to say his usual sentence filled with curse words, instead. Nothing. This time, it was he, Eric Cartman, who could not give a ration explanation for that. It was so bad, he could not even think of a lie. His arms fell limp as his eyes threaten to stab Kenny. "I'll kill you, Kenny." Hate.

Kyle watched in awe. This was a first. His fat friend failed at the one thing he was good at. And Kenny knew how to do it? Did Kenny know from personal experience when he was left out after everyone found out he was gay? One other thing sparked his mind. If Kenny was indeed gay, why has he not went with another guy before?

Cartman planted a cold stare onto Kyle next. That green collar was in his grasp in a matter of seconds, "But first, I'll kill the little Jew." If there was one person you did not want to get mad at the wrong moment, it was Cartman. He could not to any physical damage, but he could make you forget that, and attack you mentally.

Kyle was dropped and the bus ride to school was one big blur.

The day seemed to go by a lot faster when there was something on your mind. It was not any different for Kyle. It was already fifth period. He was fully dressed in his uniform, which hung loosely off him. He stood at the side as everyone else played their sports. He hated 'open gym.' Plus, the only one he knew in that class was Cartman, but he did not dare over look him. He did not mind anyway.

"Broflovski!" The P.E. teacher came forward, not in the happiest mood either, "If you're going to just stand there all day, I'll have you do something useful!" Ick. His voice was horrible. It was scratchy and you could tell he had been yelling all day. He was one of those teachers you had to call 'coach' or they would not answer you.

Kyle stood up straight, "Yes, sir." He really did not feel like dealing with the 'coach' today, so he began to run off, if to play basketball or something.

"Broflovski! Get your tiny white ass over here, now!" The teacher spat, giving an intimidating look towards the boy, as he threw a set of keys his way, "Go in the back and bring out some more hockey sticks!" After his sentence, he blew his whistle loud, echoing throughout the gym room.

Kyle held his hands out to catch the keys, but they soon fell out of reach after he flinched from the loud whistle. He leaned down and grabbed the keys quickly and sprinted off. He came to the wooden door with the letters, 'gym equipment' on it. The obvious room he had to go into. He unlocked it and headed inside. He stopped, seeing it was too dark for even him to see, "Why couldn't I just stand on the wall?" He sighed, looking around for a switch, "Or run a million laps?" His fingers glided along the dirty wall and felt what he was looking for, "Or do a billion sit ups?" He flipped the switch and the light went on. The bucket of hockey sticks was not in the front. He knew it was not going to be. If it was, the teacher would have gotten it himself. He walked through the tons of different sports balls, bats, padding, and pretty much anything else. "Where the hell are they?" He scratched his head and looked around.

The light bulb shattered. It was a freak accident. It just shattered in a million pieces and hit the ground.

Kyle was just thankful for not being under it at the time, but how would he find anything in the dark now? He did not even want to go back because he might step on the glass. Then again, he did not want to be in the room. He had to admit, it was a little spooky.

The door slammed shut.

Did he say a little? It was… A lot.

Cartman's words went through his head.

_"But first, I'll kill the little Jew."_

He shivered and backed up a little. Luck seriously was not on his side. He tripped over something. A bucket. Inside of it, Hockey sticks. Great. He had the hockey sticks, but he was stuck in a dark room with his imagination. He grabbed a stick and closed his eyes, "Leave me alone!"

Someone else was in the room. They were moving things around as they tried to not to trip over stuff.

It had to be Cartman. He was in his hour. He probably saw him go in here. He was going to die. The fat ass was finally going to murder him and no one would even know about it, "Go away Cartman! Leave me alone! I swear to God!" He shouted, trying to swing at anything in front of him, which was nothing.

Something grabbed his stick, preventing him from swinging. Right after, a small 'click' noise was heard.

He had no choice but to start freaking out now. Rapidly trying to move his stick or even stand up. The hockey sticks were snaked around his legs. Damn. All he wanted to do is be out of that damn room. He was going to die! "Oh my God! Oh God help me! Don't kill me! Please! I'll do anything!"

"What are you talking about, Kyle?" The person said, who grabbed the stick, simply to not get hit by it, "Dude, its me. Stan."

He sniffed, "Stan?" He said, relieved. He actually smirked, thinking that he was acting like Tweek for a second there, "Dude, what are you doing here?"

"Enough about that, I need to know something."

Kyle blinked, even though it did not make a difference, since he could not see two feet in front of him, "What?" Whatever he wanted, it sounded serious. He did kind of want to know why he was not in class. What he wanted more was to see his face.

"Do you like me?"

"Yeah," Kyle said with a cheerful tone of voice, "You've been my friend since we were little."

Stan smacked his lips, "No, retard!" His voice became more angry, but it calmed as he asked the rest, "I mean, more than friends?"

"Why are you asking me this?" Kyle backed off, a little confused. Why was Stan acting like this? Why all of these questions now? He did not know for himself, yet.

"Just… ANSWER, Kyle." Stan said, more aggravated, "I need to know!"

"Back off, dude!" Kyle became a little more defensive himself, "I can't answer that. You're my friend."

"What if I said I liked you?"

"What?" The Jewish boy scurried back more, but he collided with a concrete wall, "Shit!"

"I like you. I love you, Kyle." Stan's voice changed to something more seductive, "You make me hot."

Kyle's stomach turned, "Wh-what? What the hell are you talking about?!" This was too weird for him. Was he really saying all this bullshit to him? Was he sure he did not just pass out and he was still laying at the bus stop? Was this some kind of sick dream of his?

Before another thing could cross his mind, a pair of lips met with his. Then, black. More black. He could not hear much. The only thing he could hear was himself saying, "I love you!" Between kisses, until a loud click was hear… Stan's lips left his. His eyes opened, confused, "Huh?"

"So, you _are_ hot for Stan, Jew?"

Kyle meant to back up more, but his back only hit the wall again, "C-Cartman?! What the hell are you doing in here!?" Fear rose. Something was not right. Something was wrong. Where the hell is Stan, "Stan?! Where are you?!" He called out.

"Don't you get it, you fuck-tard?!" A large shoe went straight at the boy's small neck. Cartman held on tight to the recorder in his hand, "And to think. This was Butters' idea? HA!"

The shoe smack into his throat as he gasped out his words once again, "Where is Stan, you fat-fuck!?"

Cartman spoke out in an unsure tone, "Not sure," He continued, but the voice that came out of his throat was not his own. It was Stan's, "What do you know. My voice is Stan's voice with less fat. Who would guess?" Cartman could mimik Stan's voice? Well, if Stan could copy Cartman's, it had to be the other way as well.

Kyle felt everything fall right before his eyes. Cartman thinks he's gay with his best friend and they were in a dark room with no teacher. It did not help that his air supply was being cut short, "Just kill me now, you fat friendless fuck!" His voiced was starting to sound scratchy. He kind of wishes he was now.

"Oh," The large boy removed his foot and started out the room, "I will. Soon, enough, Jew. I have to take care of a few more things first." Laughter filled the room until the door was open, then closed. Fading from the outside.

Kyle just sat there, "No." This stupid secret was going to be heard all around school because Cartman had the biggest mouth alive. He watched the ring on his finger in the dark, placing a finger tip on the gem, "I'm sorry, Stan." If it was going to go to anyone, it would be Stan first. He was screwed. He made himself comfortable, because he was not going to leave until senior year. Even if it was a couple years on him. He did not mind staying there, because he was dead if anyone found out. He was dead.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine: Sick For You

A week passed since the day Cartman 'found out' his 'secret.' He had went home from school that afternoon and has been in his room ever since. Talking, debating, thinking. And all of this to himself. He told his mom he puked all over the fucking school before he got home that day. He used those words too.

Being grounded did not mean anything to him now. His room was his own little bubble away from everyone. Stares. Looks. Comments. Even if he did not hear one yet, he was afraid to. What could he do? Stan probably hated him by now. Took all pictures that had him in them and cut, ripped, and burnt them all. He knew he was the kind of person to do that. When he hated someone. He held a grudge. Big time.

Stan…

He reached into his orange coat pocket, that was now hanging off a wooden chair in his room, and took out a small cell phone. He opened it and went to the address book, having the marker run down the list of names until it hit 'Stan's Cell.' He took a deep breath and pressed the call button.

-Ring

-Ring

-Ring

"Hey. It's Stan. Leave a message… or something."

-Beep

He closed the phone quick. He could not leave a message. He could hardly get the guts to call him at all. What if Stan was actually ignoring him? Could he be with Wendy right Now? Could they have gotten back together already? He hated this feeling of not knowing.

He flipped open his phone once again and scanned down to 'Stan's Home.' He pressed enter and waited for an answer.

-Ring

-Ring

-Ring

"Hello?" A voice answered. It was not Stan's. It was much deeper. It must have been his dad.

Either way, it took Kyle a few seconds to actually answer back, "H-hello?" He swallowed, "Is Stan there?"

"Yeah, hold on," He said, but after, there were shouts that were called out and away from the phone, "Stan! Phone!"

The boy yelled back, "Who is it?"

"I think its your little girlfriend, Wendy!"

Kyle froze. 'Little Girlfriend?' Was his voice really that high? He felt like hanging up right there. Plus, what would he say to Stan?

An audible groan was heard as if he did not want to answer it. Steps were heard, getting louder when finally, his voice reached the phone, "I already told you. I'm not going to Home Coming with you, Wendy!"

That was not making it easier for Kyle to talk. Stan sounded pretty pissed. What would he say? 'I'm sorry that I like you.' 'Don't listen to Cartman! He's lying!' OR 'Please! PLEASE! Don't kill me!' He stuck with something more natural, "Hey, dude." He flinched as if he could feel a punch come his way. He waited for what Stan would say next. It was killing him. He nervously moved the toes inside his socks. Curl. Uncurl. Curl. Uncurl. His hand started to feel like it was having a seizer now. It would not stop shaking for the life of him.

"Wait," Stan sounded utterly confused. Wendy sounded a whole lot like his best friend, "Kyle?"

As his name was spoken, he nodded, "Yeah, it's me." What would Stan say next? Is he mad at him? He wanted to know, but at the same time, he did not.

Stan's voice brightened, "Oh. Hey! You haven't been at school. You ok?"

His friend's usual concern. Does he… know? He could hear the beating in his temples and his hands grew hot, shaking even more. It was a surprised he could still hold onto the phone.

"Yeah," he pushed that statement to a side, "Have you talked to Cartman lately?" He needed to know. Wondering was eating him alive. Even though, the odds are he did not know. But what if he did know? Maybe he thought it was cool if he liked him. It still sounded weird to him.

"No, why?" Stan asked as if it were the weirdest question anyone would have ever been asked, "Did he hurt you? I swear I'll…!"

"No, no. I just wanted to know," Kyle cut off the threat. He was a little relieved, he could not have known. But… why would Cartman not tell Stan? Did he tell anyone? "Dude! Are there any rumors about me at school?"

"Yeah. A crazy ass one. I don't believe it though," Stan started.

Kyle cringed. 'Crazy.' Is that what he was?

"They say you haven't been going to school because you have AIDS, but that's just some stupid bullshit fatass probably made up. Sounds like it." He stopped, changing the subject, "I was going to call you later today. I was getting a little worried. I mean, you know. What happened last Wednesday…" He obviously did not need to finish. They knew what he was talking about.

Kyle laid down, having a pillow comfort his head. He wished he would have been awake. He wanted to say good-bye, "I'm… sorry about that, dude. I, seriously, wanted to hang out."

"Its ok. There are other days. Besides, I did spent the day with you. You were burning up, dude. I helped break your fever and your mom even let me stay until ten."

Kyle smiled, not even knowing what to say. It almost made him blushed. He had to have had the best friend in the whole world. He always cared about him. "Thanks, dude." He said softly, showing that what he heard meant a lot to him.

"Will you be at school tomorrow?" Stan sounded a little bit desperate. Finally being able to talk to Kyle kind of made him miss it when their conversations were over.

The Jewish boy griped at the phone a little. "Yeah." He said slowly, as if he were not sure.

"Alright, See you then," Stan said, rather happy by the answer. He hung up the phone.

-Eep

-Eep

-Eep

Kyle was stuck with listening to the dial tones after his friend had hung up. More or less, draining out the repetitive noise as his mind went somewhere else. Did he possibly have the guts to go back to school? What would be waiting? Did Cartman tell anyone?

The next morning came fast. The weather was a little warmer than it had been for the last week, which was a plus. Since Kyle had been gone, Kenny kept coming to the bus stop, and so had Cartman. And lets face it, without the Jew to push around, he used Kenny. It did not matter to the ghetto boy. He just ignored it.

Stan came walking towards the bus stop and stopped and stood there. Of course, a good distance away from Kenny. For um… reasons unknown. He looked around. Where was Kyle? He said he would be coming. He only took the bus today because he thought his friend would be there.

Cartman just looked at the boy who just joined them, "Excuse me, but what are you doing here?" The words sounded polite, but the boy's tone of voice sure as hell was not. Who did Stan think he fucking was? Coming to the bus stop like he owned it or something.

"I'm not here for you, Fat ass. I'm waiting for Kyle," Stan spat bitterly. His brows arched downwards, a little annoyed at the boy. That, and the fact he said the reason why he was there.

This caused Kenny to look over at the tallest boy of the group. He would have blurted out an 'Aw,' but considering he has not really talked to Stan forever, he kept it to himself. Plus, it would not help anything. He would probably get himself a fag comment from Cartman and a cold stare from Stan.

Cartman's lips twisted to an evil smile, "Waiting for your boyfriend so you can walk him to class?" Loud, obnoxious laughter followed his statement. Even though it was only coming from him.

"Shut up, Cartman," was Stan's answer back to the boy, "You miss him as much as us. You're probably sick of ripping on Kenny, and Kenny's probably sick of you ripping on him." He simply folded his arms and let it be at that.

Cartman mumbled something, but it was unheard from the two other boys. If he was getting sick of anything, it was Stan's stupid comments. (Even if he has only just showed up.) The fag would defend Kyle all the time, and he could not do anything about it half the time.

Soft steps dug into the slushy ground. Slow, steady. A little slower than regular walking pace.

Stan was the first one to looked up. He almost looked shocked at who he was looking at. He could hardly move as he saw his best friend walking closer to the stop. It was almost as if he were watching something in slow motion. He covered his mouth with his hand and felt his stomach clench. The absence of Kyle, made him forget how cute the boy actually was.

Kyle's eyes were focus on the ground, until he looked up and saw familiar faces. One too familiar for his own eyes. He stopped, then smiled towards Stan. Why was he here? He never rides the bus anymore. Then, he noticed. For a long time, the four boys had never stood together at this same bus stop, until now. This made him smile a bit more, as he continued walking. After he was in front of his best friend, he stopped, "Hey, dude."

God, was he cuter up close. He could not believe it. The hand in front of his mouth turned into a fist, feeling his insides tearing a part almost. He would have said 'hi' back, if he did not feel so sick. He nodded as he retraced Kyle's features. Why was he so girly? Everything. He was just short enough to where, if they hugged, he would fit perfectly into his own arms. He was so thin a fragile looking. And his face. He did not even want to get into that.

Stan began to shake a little, as his body was tensing up. He felt so car sick right now. That pounding head ache, the feel of the outside being a million degrees, and unimaginable speed bumps. His stomach was twisting a turning more than usual. And, yes, he had butterflies in his stomach. The only thing was, it felt like they had explosives strapped onto them and they were doing suicide bombings inside him.

Kyle blinked a little and watched his friend's strange behavior, "Dude, you ok?" He was about to take a step forward, but stopped!

The black haired boy fell to his hands and knees. This feeling stupid and ungodly. His hands dug into the slush and gagged a few times. He felt the taste pour in his mouth, but he swallowed it back. His stomach retched hard, having his back arch and twitch up and down.

He knew everyone had to be looking at him right now, but he could not help it. Kyle was probably even looking at him.

Kyle!

His head was forced downwards as the taste of sour milk and acid filled his mouth. It had nowhere else to go, but down. Onto the ground. He closed his eyes tight as he felt the burns at his throat and the horrible taste of him upchucking his cereal he had just twenty minutes ago. The sound of splattering chunks on the ground below him made him feel more sick, and the smell was ten times as bad. It was a fucking chain reaction. Moaning at the horrible feel of everything. That is, until it stopped. He panted a little and spit the remainder that was in his mouth with the puddle he just made. He crawled away from the mess with tears from pain and embarrassment. He felt like an idiot, and he felt like he was going to be sick again.

He stood up and looked at everyone's expressions. It just seemed like everyone did not know what was going on, but they were all looking at him right now. He was on the spotlight. He did not want to. He looked at Kyle. He had to know now. Didn't he? He had to know that he liked him now. Right?

The said boy watched Stan, "St-Stan? Are you ok?" He was not really sure what to think or make of anything. He had only said a few words to him. Something happened when he was gone. Did Cartman say something to him? Did he make Stan sick? Stan knew! He had to! Stan must have pretended to be nice on the phone, but once he really got there, he actually saw the fag who liked him and was disgusted.

It felt like Kyle was looking right through him, (even if he was not) he turned his back to the group of boys and began to run. He knew when it was time to bail, and this was the time. How the Hell would he show his face to him again? The boy probably thought Stan was sick for liking him, but he, himself, could not disagree with that at all. Everyone saw.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten: Cut Short

Kyle sat in the back seat of the bus. He sat hunched over with his head resting on the back of the seat in front of him. It was not exactly 'resting,' the vibration from the bus moving caused his head to rubbed against the seat. This gave him a head ache, "I'm dead," he mumbled to himself.

"There's nothing wrong with being dead," Kenny snickered, jokingly, as he stuck a cigarette (which he stole from the bus driver) and placed it between his lips. Soon after, lighting it. He took a hit and smiled cheerfully.

The other boy's head turned just enough to glance at the other with the cancer stick in his mouth, "Can tell, dude. I kindda feel like living though." He coughed once and placed a head phone in his ear and tried his best to calm his nerves.

The blonde boy shook his head, "Why worry? Stan likes you." Not giving Kyle enough time to soak in his last sentence, he pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket. He looked over the writing on it, "You going to vote for Home Coming King and Queen?" He took a closer look at the lists, "Kyle Broflovski?" His eyes widened a little bit and looked at the paper with amusement.

Kyle looked his way again as he heard his full name being said, "What?" He straightened his back so he was sitting up now. What the hell was he talking about?

"You're on the list, dude!" Kenny laughed a few times before continuing, "I wonder who nominated you!"

"Let me see!" Kyle reached his hand over to grab the small piece of paper. He held it in both hands as he began to read the choices for King. His name was not on there. He threw the paper back at Kenny, "Liar! Stop saying shit, Kenny!" He looked out the window. He was kind of jealous. Stan was on the list.

"I didn't lie," The poor boy uncrumbled the paper that was thrown at him and let the other boy see for himself. He even pointed to his name, "See! Kyle Broflovski! Right here, dude!"

One green eyes glanced at the paper. That was his name. How did he over look that? He looked above his name. Wendy Testaburger? She was a girl. What was she doing in the boy list? He looked above Wendy. Bebe? Jessica? Katy? Sam? Those were all girl names! His name was under Home Coming Queen! His eyes narrowed. This had Cartman's name all over it! He stood and marched over to the fat-ass's seat.

Kenny sat back a little and took another drag off 'his' cigarette. Cartman was going to get his ass kicked and he was going to be watching it up close and personal. He smirked and crossed his leg over his knee.

The large boy shifted in his seat, looking towards the back of the bus. He knew who said his name. It had to be the girlyist guy voice in the whole school. He was still figuring out what he did to the Jew though. Meh. He played it off like he knew what was going on, by giving Kyle a 'welcoming' grin, "Nice to see you again, Jew-boy. Even if I already did, two minutes ago."

"Home Coming Queen? Cartman, you're such a jag-off! Honestly, who doesn't have that much of a life?" The red-head pointed an accusing finger at him, "Do you want to ruin my life that much?"

"Yes, Kyle. Yes, I do." The large boy said simply, but decided to add more, "Plus, I think you would look good in a dress." He broke out into laughter.

"You're an ass hole!" Kyle threw his right fist right into the other's jaw, hard. Harder than he has even done before. He felt himself twitching from so much anger. He wanted to kill the boy.

Cartman felt the blow. It was good, too. His hand rubbed at the pained spot, knowing it would bruise in a matter of time. But until then, he stood up, body towering over the Jew's, "Try it again, Kyle. Try it." He flipped out a the blade of a packet knife and gave an intense glare, "Try it."

Kyle fell back a little, his anger turning to fear now. Since when did Cartman carry around an actual weapon with him. He backed up more, just watching the small reflection of himself from the steel blade.

Kenny immediately got up. This was not a fight, it was a fucking homicide waiting to happen. He ran in front of the boy who was now cowering in fear. His stare met Cartman's, not showing signs that he was going to move any time soon, "Put it away, dude."

The big boned boy shook his head, "No, I don't think I will." He hated Kenny right now. He was acting like that Goddamn Stan. Always protecting that piece of crap, Kyle. He hated him. He hated him with all of his life. He grabbed the boy, who was in front of him, by the collar and forced him into the window of his own seat. He held the knife up high and cut across.

An orange piece of fabric hit the ground. Kenny's hood was cut straight off.

The poor boy was getting a little scared now. He knew now that Cartman was not joking anymore. He was fucking psycho! Did he really want to kill Kyle that bad? He swallowed hard, "St-stop, dude." He was trying to find a place out of his current situation. He did not know how to though. All exits were blocked for him, unless he wanted to jump out the window, but that would be even crazier than fat-ass right now.

"Stop helping Kyle," Said the over weight boy as he held the weapon firmly in his hand.

"No! You're fucking crazy! You're a crazy fat ass with no Goddamn friends! You'll never get Wendy and you'll be alone forever!" Kenny shouted seemingly without any control of his voice. Regrets began to pour in though. He was already in deep with the boy now, he just dug himself a deeper hole. And that hole might be used for his grave.

Now, Cartman was pissed.

The small knife stabbed and slashed at every which way. How could anyone say that about him? It was not Kenny's fucking life! He did not know him! He did not know anything! He did not know how much he hated Kyle! Kyle always got what he wanted! Kyle can always be fucking different without being making fun of him! He had ass hole friends to protect him all the time! Cartman always had to watch his back. Make sure everyone else around him looked weaker than him. Looked smaller. He would make sure they where the ones who got made fun of. By him personally!

His arm swung one last time.

Kenny's coat was in shreds. It carpeted over the school bus's floor. Only a few patches of fabric actually hung from the boy.

Kenny panted wondering if he was hurt. He did not want to look down. He might see his organs or something bursting out of his belly. He only looked at Cartman in panic. One of his friends actually used a knife on him. And the one friend who he use to call his best friend. Best friend, only because Stan and Kyle were so close.

His chest rose and fell. There was no blood there. He was starting to question if he was even hurt at all. He looked down and saw nothing.

Cartman stood from the seat he was on to give Kenny room to get out of it. That only. "Next time, it will be your skin." His cold stare froze over Kenny's appearance. He hated the fag. It was him who changed everything. It was his fault they were not friends now.

Kenny pulled himself up and stood. He watched Cartman's eyes as he stood face to face with him. He gave that 'I can't believe you just did that,' face and bent down to pick out his fallen cigarette, where he would put it back in his mouth. He knew his place. The back of the bus. He knew by now. He did not say a word.

Kyle quickly followed behind the threatened boy.

"Ghetto piece of crap," He mumbled, as he flipped the blade back into place and shoved it in his pocket. He sat down and stared out the window. Long and hard, "This is your fault."

Kyle glanced back. Cartman was already sitting. He let out a relieved noise and walked over to Kenny, who was now sitting down, "Dude, are you ok? Did he get you?"

Kenny blew smoke out from his nostrils and thought about the question. Yeah. Cartman got him. He was hurt, but not by a wound. His pride. His trust. His fat friend did some crazy shit and, also, hated him, but he never expected that. Not in a million years. And to think, he even considered him a friend after he was made the laughing stalk of the school. Not anymore though. Making fun of Kenny about being a fag got a little over rated, unless your name is Eric Cartman. He ignored his friend's concern, "Why does he hate me?"

The Jewish boy looked a little shocked, "Dude, he hates me." He rethought that, "He hates everyone! You're not the only one." He took a seat next to him.

The, almost, shirtless boy smiled a bit, "You're right." It faded though, "Wonder why he's so mad all the time." Could it have been what he said?

"He's mad because he's fat and has no friends," Kyle said lifting his pointer finger at one reason, then his middle for the second.

Kenny grew quiet.

Kyle gave a confused look, "You didn't do anything wrong. If anything, I should be thanking you for taking that." He smiled, trying to cheer him up.

The cigarette hung loosely between his lips, until it fell to the floor.

Kenny covered his face with those brown mitten, "I told him something, dude. A year ago. A year, starting Friday. I told him something." His blue eyes focused on the dark fabric in front of him.

Kyle tilted his head a little, "Told him something?" He did not quit grasp what that meant. What could he have said that made him mad?

"I…," the poor boy stopped, "Can't say." He blushed now, but did not move, "But he was the first person to know I was gay."

The red haired boy folded his arms, "Cartman's always finds out first." He glared out the window not saying anything after that. He placed the other earphone in and left it at that. This conversation was getting too personal.

Sparkle. Sparkle. Wendy has entered the bus, and now all eyes were on her. Wondering which seat she would choose and who she would sit next to. Deep brown eyes scanned the seats, noticing some boys pushing people out of their seat to make room for her. She just giggled. Her eyes went to the back now. A green hat? Kyle was back. She stared furiously at it, then sat in the seat next to her. She shook her head and glanced at the person next to her. Without thinking, she just sat next to Cartman.

Everyone stared hard at the fat boy. Jealous that the prettiest girl in school just sat next to him. Pissed!

Not as pissed as Cartman when he saw all of the faces he was given. He flicked each and everyone of them off and gave a disgusted look back. "Fucking hippies," He mumbled, looking out the window once again, almost forgetting the girl was next to him.

"Cartman. Why is Kyle here? I thought you said you were going to kill him. I was assuming he was dead by now." Wendy said in a low whisper, as if she did not want anyone to know.

He smacked his lips with revulsion and gave the girl a look, "I don't get you, bitch. How come I can kill Kyle, but I can't tell anyone he's a fucking fag?" He whispered back and crossed his arms, bordly.

"Because, fat ass. If anyone finds out Stan is a…" Her voice went lower, "…homo, then, it would defeat the purpose of me going back out with him. My rep will be on the line!" How the hell does she make her sentences sound so technical, but she can get away with added curse words in it too.

The large boy rolled his eyes, "Stan probably doesn't like you because he's a guy fucker. Why do you keep going back for the prick. This was the… what? Fourth time this school year where I found you crying over him, and you want to go back? Thought you were a little smarter than that, girl." He shook his head after that. He might as well stick bleach on the girl's hair and call her a dumb blonde. She was pissing him off.

Stan. Stan. Stan. STAN!

"Stan loves me! He's… just distracted." That was her reason. She stayed with it. It was just a stupid phase, like that Goth phase he had, or metro sexual. (CRAB PEOPLE!) …right?

"Whatever you say," He said in a doubtful tone. She reminded him of an obsessed fan girl. Denial. Even if he stuck her in a good lighted room and Kyle and Stan were making out in front of her, she would still think there was hope.

"Good," She smiled, folding her hands on her lap and looking at the boy next to her once again, "but don't forget our deal. I'll go with you to Home Coming, if you kill Kyle." She had no problem saying this louder now.

"Yeah," He said, hardly even paying attention. He did not need to. Why should he, when the bitch already asked Stan. Five times! And he keeps turning her down. She was a stupid little girl. He was even questioning why he liked her.

Her smile became bigger, "My dress is going to be so pretty. Stan will have to fall in love with me!" She giggled and blushed a little.

Cartman just stuck his tongue out is distaste and focused his eyes outside the window, trying to drain as much of her voice as he could. He gave a few 'mmhmm's and 'Yeah's just to get the feeling like he was actually listening to her gossip. He kind of laughed. Girls like Wendy could talk to themselves, about themselves, all by themselves. It was pathetic.


	11. Chapter 11

Note: Wow, first note ever on this story, prolly because of the semifast updates. I'm sad to say there might not be that quick of updates anymore. I had up to Chapter nine done before i set up an account on I was really surprised at all the comments. wow, thank you. I just want to take this time to say: "HAPPY COLUMBUS DAY!" Thank Columbus for giving us a day off school. So, i had time to write this. But um... I'm afraid it's not proof read. Just because it's Columbus day, doesn't mean i get work off too. crap.. Anyways, yes. None of the characters belong to me, blah, blah, blah. Based on semi-actual events that happen in school. Based some-what on me and my friends. Yaddy yaddy yadda. I guess... have fun reading this unproof read mine field. D

Chapter Eleven: Where's Waldo?

Kenny was a lot more quiet in math class than he has been for a while. Half of his face was buried in his arms, those sky blue eyes peeking out as he would, once in a great while, looked up at the overhead. He was wearing his P.E. shirt, and felt a little bit out of place. He sighed, wondering where he was going to get the money to buy another one. And this winter was long from over. He nuzzled his face within his arms with frustration. He hated his face. He could tell everyone was looking at him since this was really the only time he has never worn his hood to class. He even brought his coat to gym. It was embarrassing.

"Kenneth McCormick! Are you sleeping through my class!" The teacher shouted in the middle of her lesson, only to point a ruler at the boy.

Those two blue eyes were relieved once again to look up at her, "No, ma'am." He said, but it sounded muffled between his arms.

"Well, I expect you to at least take out a pen and paper to write this information down! And sit up straight, just so I know you are paying attention!" The math teacher seemed pretty angry, but after her spurt of PMS, she went back to her overly happy self as she explained the meaningless numbers on the board.

With that all done, a piece of paper and a pen fluttered onto the poor boy's desk. Not for actual note taking though. The words on it said, "Still pissed at Cartman?"

The boy who had received the note picked up the pen that was given to him and wrote back. "No, I.." He scribbled out the letter I and chewed on the pen cap to figure out what he was going to say. He wrote another sentence down, "Just need a new coat." He flicked the paper back, knowing who it was from.

Kyle watched as the folded paper did a perfect flip in the air before hitting his desk. He opened it and read what Kenny had to say. He had to admit, he was surprised with the first word, 'No.' But even more as he continued. How could Kenny not be mad? All he could think of was his coat? Cartman almost sliced his head of for Christ's sake. It did not take much before he scribbled something down and tossed it over his shoulder.

Kenny got hit on the forehead, but it did not exactly hurt. It was more of a hit, plop, and special delivery sort of thing. He opened it to reveal, "How come your so calm about that?" The blonde only signed and gave his answer, but this time, folded it into a small triangle and flicked it like a paper football. It went all the way over Kyle's hat and onto the desk. "Score!" He whispered, but got a few weird stares by it.

The note almost scared Kyle shitless. He did not expect anything flying by his head that close. He took a breath once he saw the damn note and opened it, "I deserved it, dude." The boy could only look at it with a 'WTF?' face. Deserve it? He did not do anything wrong. Cartman was the psycho, not Kenny. Before he could actually write anything back, the damn bell rang and the student began filing out of the room. By the time Kyle stood up from his seat, everyone was gone. He looked down at the note with those words. He shook his head and crumbled it up in his fist. He sure as hell was pissed, but third period was next. This was the part where he wished he had not come to school. Next hour was Home Ec.

Very awkward. The bell rang for third hour to begin. The Jewish boy and the larger boy sat at opposite sides of the table exchanging cold stares. Neither one was talking, just staring. Token and Timmy glanced at Cartman, Then Kyle. Cartman, Kyle. Cartman, Kyle. Kyle, Kyle. Cartman, Cartman.

"Timmy!" The retarded boy, formally known as Timmy shout out.

Token just nodded as if he knew exactly what he said. He took another look at the two before speaking, "Timmy's right. What's up with you two. You're usually throwing insults at each other by now."

The two boy's just shot their stares at the black boy, before continuing with their attempts to stab each other with their eyes.

"Um… Kaye." The African American boy just said before leaving them alone. It was obviously none of his business, not that he would want to mess with either of them. All Hell would break loose if you had Cartman along with Kyle pissed at you.

After a long silence, the larger boy finally spoke, "I hate you." His eyes narrowed more, keeping the Jew's sight within his.

Kyle sat back in his chair and folded his arms, "The feeling's mutual, fat boy." His green eyes grew colder with and intense hatred look on his face.

"I'm not fat, I'm big-boned," Cartman answered, but did not shout it out like he usually did. It was like he was giving Kyle an intimidating statement.

"Oh, you're fat, and psychotic," The red-headed boy's head motioned down a little, to get that dark shadow around his eyes from his hat.

"You're a Jew," Cartman tried to do that same, but his hat was not nearly as big as Kyle's. So, he just looked stupid once he did it.

"Friend killer," Kyle said back, with a little more aggression in his voice. How long could the boy take Cartman's stupid comments without his anger exploding?

He too, getting more annoyed by the last name he was called. If Kyle wanted to get personal, he could do the same, "Fag."

The Jewish boy was more surprised about what Cartman said, than angry. He thought back at what happened at the bus stop. He lost his stare with the one across from him and it fell to the ground next to him. "I am not," it sounded weak, but could not leave that hanging while the other boys were still in their group.

Cartman smiled with victory, "Although, Kyle. No one has to know about you know what," He grabbed the recorder from his pocket, "About you and you know who." He moved forward, placing his elbows on the crappy ass Home Econ. table.

Kyle's mouth opened wide. He recorded it. That was why he did not tell anyone. He wanted to blackmail him, didn't he? He glared at the boy with the recorder in his hand. He never thought that day would ever be repeated, "What?" He said, as if he did not want to talk, "What do you want?"

"Meet me at Stark's Pond after school," The smirk grew wider on the boy's fat face, "We'll discuss your payment then, Jew-boy."

Kyle swallowed. Alone with Cartman again? From the performance this morning, there was no telling what he would do. I mean, even Kenny seemed out of it. I guess, any would be if they were almost cut all over the place. He had to think of something, but there was no way in hell he would let fat ass make a fool of him to the whole school. He looked down, then up at Cartman in defeat, "Alright. Stark's Pond. I'll be there."

"And if not," As if the boy could not put anymore pressure on the Jew, he did, "The morning announcements will be rather amusing. Won't they, Kyle." Cartman said, holding the recorder in front of the other's face, to put his point across.

Kyle blushed. He could only imagine hearing his voice on the intercom, repeating that he loved Stan. His arm automatically went to grab the black object that hid his secret, but it was pulled away faster than he could. His head hit the desk and answered, "Yes, they will." More depressed than anything.

Kyle was having a hard day. He had three mission impossible. Talking to Stan, getting the recorder away from Cartman, and figuring out what Kenny's note meant. A lot of work for one day, but nothing seemed to be going his way. He figured he would start with trying to talk to Stan. That way, he could at least try to explain the situation with him going to see the fat ass after school. Maybe he could even come with and protect him and stuff.

"Hey, Stan!" He shouted across the river of kids.

The boy just ignored him, not giving him a second look.

Kyle had a feeling talking to Stan was not going to work.

Later in the day, he went to Cartman's locker. Since they were 'friends' he knew the combination. No luck though. He opened the locker and found everything, except for what he was looking for. He closed the door and slide his back down it until he was on the floor. He had a feeling it was not going to be that easy.

At that point, he did not even care about Kenny's letter. He was going to be murdered in a matter of minutes. He shook his head and tried not to think of anything.

"Hey, dude. Want to come by my place after school?" It was Kenny, probably ditching last period again. He made a seat on the tiled floor, next to Kyle. He gave a small smile, waiting for the answer.

"No," The Jewish boy shook his head, "I have to see Cartman after school." He did not seem too pleased with it. He did not even really want to say it.

Kenny looked at Kyle as if he were a big slimy monster about to eat off a goat head, "Cartman? Since when do you see Cartman?"

The red haired boy tried to bury his face into his knees, "Its not my choice, dude. I'm being black mailed. If I don't go to Stark's Pond…" He lifted his head quickly and put his hands over his mouth. He said too much. He knew what question was going to be put his way next. He could not answer it.

"Black mailed! What does he have on you?" Yep. That's the question.

Kyle stood up, "I can't tell you!" He was starting to get nervous. His eyebrows shaking over his green eyes, as if he could feel tears, but they were far from falling, "I just…" He said, not knowing where he was going with his sentence, "If Cartman kills me, just tell…" God, why was it so hard to finish what he was saying? Why was it harder to say his best friend's name when he was ignoring him, "…Stan that I'm sorry." He turned his back on the blonde boy and took his final steps.

"Kill?" Did this mean what he thought it meant? If so, he had to stop it. He rose to his feet and took a longing step forward as if he would chase after Kyle, but stopped. Whatever Cartman was black mailing the Jewish boy with, it seemed like Kyle did not want anyone to know. Not even himself. He needed help from someone who could stop Cartman a little better than him. He had to convince Stan. He spin in a one-eighty and began running the opposite direction. The bell rang and it was not long until the students filled the halls. He needed to get through the crowds of children and get to the football field. That was where Stan was at after school.

Entering the locker room, he felt a little awkward. NAKED GUYS EVERYWHERE! He would so rape them, I mean, the opportunities to flirt with them, if he was not so busy trying to find the red poof ball hat that stuck out so well. But where was it? It was like fucking Where's Waldo, without the stripped shirt. Imagine going around finding a damn hat with a bunch of nude football players around you.

It was not working. He tapped on of them on the shoulder, "Uh… Um… excuse me, but uh… do you know where Stan Marsh is?" He tried to be as polite as he could for the sake of his sanity. He did not even make it to the showers yet.

The guy who was asked turned around with just a small white towel on. He looked at the small poor boy wearing a P.E. uniform, "What are you? Our new water boy?"

"I could be yours," He smirked, but then smacked himself in the face, "No, I'm not a damn water boy! Where the hell is Stan!" This was an emergency and this was not the time (even though it kind of looked like it) the time to be flirting with naked guys.

He did not say much after that. He simply pointed to another portion of the locker room.

Kenny saw where the player was pointing to and ran over there. He almost fell over and died after he saw that those guys were not half naked. He saw everything. But then, he saw it! He found Waldo, I mean, Stan! He pushed his way through the crowd of naked men and went to him, "Stan! Dude! Stan! Yo, Marsh!" He finally stopped as he was in front of him.

"Kenny!" Stan looked everything, but happy to see the blonde gay boy. Especially when he was almost naked, "What do you want!"

"Its Kyle, dude! He's going to meet Cartman at Stark's Pond! I think he's planning on killing Kyle, dude!" Kenny looked like he was in a panic. A panic where one of his friend's were in trouble and totally hot guys around him.

He did not even want to picture what Cartman would do. Stan grabbed the hyper active boy by his shirt and brought him closer to his face, "Are you sure!" He was getting a little frightened himself.

Kenny noticed his feet were not meeting the floor anymore. He looked at Stan, who looked like he was pissed and terrified at the same time, "Y-yes! He told me! Honest!"

The black haired boy dropped the Kenny and put his pants and coat on, nothing really else and sprinted out of the locker room. He did all this, not before running into his coach. He ran into the large teacher and landed on his ass.

"Marsh, where are you going?" The coach said, almost looking as if he popped a vein or something.

"I have to go, sir," Stan stood up and went to the exit door.

"Marsh! You can't leave! You miss a practice before our Home Coming game, I'll suspend you from the team!" His words were strict, loud, and knew no mercy.

Stan's head went down and walked over to his coach, as if he was not going to go out the door anymore. His deep blue eyes lifted and his brows lowered. A finger came up between himself and the teacher. It was the middle finger. He had, in fact, flipped off the coach, "Then, your star player isn't playing in the Home Coming game." He turned his back to the adult and began running again. Fuck football. Kyle was more important at this point.

The coach just stood there in disbelief. Not only was he shit out of luck, he just let a student flick him off and he did nothing about it. Without Marsh, number four, the whole team of the South Park Cows, was shit out of luck.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve: Take Me All the Way

It was warm outside. Warmer than it usually was. The snow was beginning to melt more, and the ice on the pond was thinning. Kyle stood under a tree, watching as small drops of water fell from the branches above. What was going to happen? What would happen to him? Could he actually make a deal to save his secret from everyone?

"So, you showed, Kyle," Cartman said, just now getting to the spot. He had a small tape in his hand. He fiddled with it for a second and looked up at the Jew, "This is what you want, right Kyle?"

Said boy stepped forward, "Of course, Cartman! Now give it to me!" He held his hand out.

"Not so fast," He held it closer to him and watched the boy who actually thought he was going to get the prize that easy, "I specifically said we would discuss your payment. You only just rewarded yourself with me not putting your recording on the morning announcements.

Kyle's arm fell limp at its side, "Well, what do you want?" He did not want to do anything. All he wanted was the damn tape.

Cartman seemingly changed the subject, "Its getting warmer, don't you agree Kyle?" He looked towards the Jew, but did not think he would get an answer. He did not care. He went on, "The ice on Stark's pond is thinning a lot, but I bet a certain skinny, girly, Jew-boy would not have trouble walking across, would he?" He smirk crossed over the corners of his lips.

"What?" Kyle got the gist of what the other was saying, but did he really think he was that stupid? Walking across the pond? That was the stupidest thing in the world. Was he really willing to risk his life for the tape. After he thought about it, no one really liked him that much anyways. And Kenny probably would not look at him any differently anyways. Plus, Stan already hated him.

"Walk across, just once. Nothing more, nothing less. The choice is yours, Kyle. Can you really live through the announcements tomorrow morning? Can you really live through the rest of high school with everyone calling you a fag?" He folded his arms, still holding the tape so it was in the other's view.

The red head looked down with shame. Maybe he did not have a choice. He could only picture his next few years if everyone found out. It would be the most embarrassing thing in the whole world. He looked up and nodded, "I'll do it."

Cartman took a step closer, "If you don't make it across, you'll be known as a fag after you die, too."

"Just shut up, fat ass," Kyle said with a low miserable voice as he walked passed him and to the icy waters. He took his first step. Nothing. He took another one. It was slippery, but that was it. Thank God he was skinny as all hell. By the time he got to the middle of the ice it was his twenty second step. He was counting the whole way. It felt like he was suffocating. The ice was starting to creak a bit, but nothing extreme. It was just eating on his fear.

"Should we make this more interesting? I think it's a little too easy." The large boy shouted out to the other who was now in the center of the rink. His hand reached down into the snow and uncovered a long metal object.

Kyle looked over his shoulder and gasped, "Don't do it! Don't do it, Cartman!"

The boy with the metal object walked slowly over to the ice, there was no way he was going to listen to a little Jew boy. He held the tool with both hands, over his head, then swung down at the ice.

A small hole was formed, which only made cracks around it. The cracks grew. The ice was separating. The cracks were spreading around as if it were a disease and coming straight for Kyle.

Kyle panicked! He started to run which was not helping the ice from breaking any slower. If he could make it to the other side he might have a fighting chance. He did not want to die here. He was rethinking what he had just done. He should not have listened to Cartman. He always gets his way and Kyle always got the short end of the stick. Even when it was meant to help him. He wanted Stan!

His eyes shifted up. Was it a dream? Stan was running towards him? He was farther away, but it was him. Tears began to run down his cheeks from his eyes. He shouted out, "Stan! Stan! Help me!" He lifted his hands out in front of his body, trying to reach at his friend's figure. It was impossible.

His next step! He felt his foot sink. He stomped his other foot down to get it out of the water, but that one sank too. He was stuck. His body fell through a newly made hole. He took one deep breath before having the chilled water rise over his head. His moved his arms and legs to start swimming, but they went numb. The water was too cold. He was freezing. He did not know if he would freeze to death or drown first. This was it. He did not want to die here. Not now.

Stan's legs pumped harder, "Kyle!" He saw the splash. He saw his friend go under. His only instinct was to run as fast as he could. He reached the hole his friend had fallen into. He was not coming up. Where the hell was he? Was he trapped?

Cartman watched Stan with rage. How the hell did he find out? How did he know Kyle was meeting there? Did the stupid Jew tell him? It was not fair. Kyle always has someone to save his little Jew ass. He yelled over to the black haired boy, "How about you get your stupid hippy ass out of here, Stan! Go to your little gay wad football practice!"

Deep blue eyes looked at Cartman. He was more pissed than he has ever been. "You're dead, fat ass!" He called back to Cartman, actually about to run over there until the one he was speaking to, talked back.

"We'll see about that. As we speak, Kyle is sinking lower and lower into the water and suffocating, water practically poring into his lungs. Jews can't breath underwater." He folded his arms, "I want to see you sacrifice your friend just so you can kill me."

Weather he wanted to admit it or not, Cartman was right. He went back to the small hole he saw his friend fall into. He took his brown jacket off and threw it on the ground. The cold air touched his bare skin, but he did not care right now. He jumped into the icy water, swimming as low as he could. It was cold, he acknowledged that the moment he hit it. Every hair on him stood straight, but he was more worried about his best friend. It was painful to open his eyes to look for him. He swore that his eyes would turn into damn ice cubes, but he held them open just long enough to spot his friend. With all the air he had left in his lungs, he shouted the boy's name underwater before swimming in that direction.

Meanwhile, on the surface, Cartman bailed. Fuck getting the shit beat out of. He ran as fast as his thick legs could carry him, until someone stood in his path. He stopped, watching the boy in the green and white P.E. uniform, 'McCormik.'

Kenny was out of breath. He tried following after Stan, but he was way too fast to keep up with. Plus, he was a smoker, which made it twice as hard. Ice blue eyes stared coldly at Eric. He spoke out, "What's wrong with you? Why do you want to kill Kyle!"

It was easy to top the small blonde boy's glare, with his own dark one. "Get out of my way, Kenny." He said, bitterly. He was not joking. He needed to get out of that area fast.

"You're not going anywhere until you tell me," The poor boy said back. He was not going to move. He wanted his answer.

Cartman took his share of steps forward and grabbed Kenny by the collar like he had last time, "You have no idea how much I hate him. You, Stan, or even the Jew. None of you can possibly understand. Kyle makes my life a living Hell! I hate him for reasons you'll never grasp." With that, he let go. His stare looked darker.

Kenny fell on his ass, and hard. He winced as one eye opened to look at the boy standing before him. "Stop this! Kyle hasn't done ANYTHING to you! Just stop before you hurt someone and get in trouble, dude!" A form of fear and sadness swept across him, "I know life is hard, damn it! That doesn't mean you go around killing everyone who gives you shit! You have to ignore bastards like that!" He let out one sob he could not hold back, "You don't even know how great you have it! You only have one parent! So, you don't have to listen to them, day in and day out, fight with each other! And after their fights they don't take it out on you! You don't have to fucking fend for yourself at dinner, dude! You don't have to fucking go hungry some nights because your dad spent it on booze! You have a pretty fucking easy life to me!"

This made Cartman stop for a second. He took in what the boy, sitting in front of him, said and actually felt empty for a second. He shook his head back and forth slowly, as if disapproving something, "I'm sorry to hear that, but…" He looked back at the pond, then to his destination, "You won't understand." He walked around him, and with a safe distance away, he began his sprint again.

A gasp of air came from the hole. Stan's head burst out of the water. He climbed out with Kyle and dragged Kyle out onto the solid ground. He coughed as the cold water had burned his throat. His attention went to his friend. "Kyle?" He more or less screeched out, shaking the boy's shoulders.

Nothing.

"Dude! Get up!" The outdoors' breeze swept by, making it seem ten times as cold as it already was, and it was pretty damn cold to begin with. He held his two fingers to his wrist.

Nothing.

Was Kyle dead? No, he would not let that happen, "Dude! Come one! Wake up!" He shook him a bit more.

Nothing.

His fists began to pound into the boy's chest, trying to force the water he was suffocating on out of him. Kyle needed to live. He needed to stay with him. He pounded harder.

Nothing.

Stan pinched Kyle's nose and went down, putting his mouth over his, blowing in. If his friend was not going to breath, he was going to do it for him. He came up and pushed at his chest again, then closed in on his face once more and gave him more oxygen.

Something happened.

Kyle went to his side and coughed up the frigid water. He gagged until he finally got in his gulps of air. He was breathing. He felt his body lift and rest on something warm. He looked around him, dazed, "Stan?" He said weakly.

"I'm here," The boy was already holding his live friend in his arms. He held on tight, not wanting him to leave. Not like that again. His face was buried in the sopping wet hat he knew so much as his friend's. The brown coat he had left behind, was already around the small boy. The only thing dry between the two.

Reality hit him. He knew what had happened. He hugged at Stan's back and cuddled his face close to his chest, crying hard. "Thank you!" He said, "Thank you!" He repeated. He seemed to repeat his sentence over and over, in between his sobs. He was so grateful to have a friend like Stan. He was not ready to die and he helped him.

Stan only cradled him more making a few hush noises. He had no idea why he was thanking him. He was a horrible friend. He ignored him a time of need. If it was not for Kenny's warning, he would have lost someone so precious to him. The most important person in his life. "I love you," He did not care what Kyle thought of that. He said it. He meant it. That was that.

"I love you too, dude," Kyle knew it was part of that 'brotherly love' thing, but he took the words as if it meant something more. It never would, but after this he had a right. He only cried harder. He did not know if the water on his friend's chest was from his tears or the pond. I guess it did not matter. Stan did not seem to mind.

Kenny glanced over at the two. A relieved smile went across his face. His friends were safe. He wiped his eyes with his arm and stood up. He made his way over to the two and watched as they huddled against each other. He found it cute. They really were perfect for each other. He heard the Jew's sobs loud and clear. So, he asked Stan, "Is he alright?"

The boy lifted his head. Stringy black bangs stuck to his forehead from the wetness. His eyes were red and puffy, biting his lip hard, trying to keep all of this in. One, for Kyle's sake, and two, he did not want Kenny to see him cry. Even if it was a little too late for that. It was not very visible since his face was drenched anyways. The boy nodded, "Y-yeah," He sniffed once, "I'm just… going to bring him back to my place."

That had to be the first time Kenny had ever seen Stan like that. He looked so hurt. He could only nod to that, words were not best used for this situation. Stan was trying so hard to be strong for his friend. He forced a smile and waited for him to actually get up.

Stan tried once to get to his feet, but the water on the soles of his shoes caused him to slip. He tried a second time and actually succeeded. He held the Jewish boy closed, covering the boy with his dry coat. The only think he wore was his pants and shoes.

Kenny noticed and reached into his pocket. He brought out that poof ball hat of Stan's. He simply handed it to him.

Stan took it. It was dry too. He took the hat off Kyle's head and replaced it with his. He carried the soaking wet green hat under his arm and gave a "Thanks" Kenny's way before turning to go into town again. The bitter chill of winter was starting to bite at his skin, but he found it more important to stop Kyle from feeling the same thing.

Kenny was really shocked. He expected Stan to put it on his own head. That was his own intention on giving the hat back. He must really care about him. A lot. He was thinking about Kyle from the moment he got to Stark's Pond, to right now, and probably even after this. He smiled and took his own route home. It was freezing out, but he figured if Stan and Kyle could make it home, Kenny could still walk the long way home. Winter really sucked without a coat. But he should not complain. Not about that. There was a war between Cartman and Kyle, and now everyone was being effected. Does that mean they were all still friends?


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thriteen: Don't Want-2-B

"I swear, dude! I'm going to kill him tomorrow!" Stan shouted, shivering and watching his friend who was on the bathroom floor, doing the same. He was literally pissed off, his pants half hanging off his ass because he was not wearing boxers at the moment. He did not bother pulling them up. All he could think about was how much of an ass Cartman was. He twisted a knob and water was heard sprinkling down behind the curtain.

The ground was colder than Kyle thought. The tiles were ungodly cold under his ass cheeks. He was curled up in the brown coat, so nothing was really showing. He nuzzled his face into the fabric, as his eyes wandered to his friend and stopped to watch what was not being covered on Stan's backside. His face burned red and quickly looked away.

The only form of clothing was dropped and he made his way into the shower. He shivered once more as the water began to warm his skin. He was still really annoyed though. It took a few seconds before he got use to he water's temperature and no more ice cold water was on him. Stan poked his head out of the curtain and watched his friend, still freezing to death on the floor, "Kyle? Get in here, dude. You're going to get sick."

The Jewish boy looked at his friend then back down, hugging himself closer into a ball, "I can wait." He said, now looking at the wall in front of him, trying to keep warm.

"Dude, I don't care. We're both boys and we're both friends. Its not I haven't seen fucking dick before, dude." He stood there in the same spot until the other said something back.

Kyle stood up, shyly. The jacket hung low. Of course Stan did not have anything to worry about, but Kyle was girly looking. He was skinny and shit. He had a feeling he was going to make fun of him. "Fine, but you can't look." Damn Stan and his one shower house. He had a bathroom downstairs, but no shower.

Stan signed and closed his eyes, covering them with his hands to let his friend know he was not spying on him.

Kyle watched him for a long moment. Once he was convinced, he dropped the jacket and took a step forward. He examined his friend's arms. They were muscular, he looked at his own. Small, thin. He was a disgrace to a real man. He climbed behind the curtain and stood inside. It was a lot warmer. It felt a lot better than the cold floor.

"Dude!" The black haired boy came closer to Kyle and yanked on the red poof ball hat he had given him, that was not on his friend's head, "Take that off!"

Kyle held the hat in place. Once it was out of the other's hands, he fell back a little, his back smacking into one of the walls of the shower. He whined, "No! You know I don't like my hair, dude! Plus, you said you wouldn't look!" He held his eyes tight as if he could control what his friend could do.

Stan smiled. He could not believe Kyle had the stupidest insecurities. He had nothing really to be afraid of. Kyle's figure was what made he cute, and that curly hair made Stan weak for some reason. Kyle was so different from all of the "want-to-be's" and "your everyday normal person walking down the street." It was that, another reason why he was so attached to him. He wanted to be different too. He wanted to leave the life of his boring life of normalcy, but if he wanted to be like Kyle, he would still be a "want-to-be." Its what made Kyle, Kyle. No one could ever dream to top something like that. Kyle had his own individuality, which gave him his own identity. He would make a mark in the world one day. Whereas, himself, would die a social security number alone, buried next to random cremated bodies next to his grave. Then again, that was his goth half springing to life again.

Kyle opened his eyes slowly, but noticed Stan was not making fun of him. He was not even looking at him as he thought he would have been. His friend was thinking about something in serious thought. He assumed it was Cartman again, "Dude, I think we should just ignore fat ass. There's no telling what he'll do if we keep pissing him off."

The taller boy's head sprung up from this sentence, "If we keep letting him get away with this shit, he's going to keep doing it! Someone needs to stop him!" He stood tall, body straight as he looked down at his friend, "I don't want to see you get hurt again."

Kyle's face saddened. He cared way too much, "I wasn't really hurt, dude. I just fell in some ice. Besides, you might get hurt if you fuck with him." He tried not to make a big deal about it. He did not want to experience those tears again.

How could Kyle say something like that. A vision of himself placing his mouth over the Jewish boy's pale purple parted lips went through his mind. It gave him a headache. His eyes narrowed, "You almost DIED, Kyle!" He took a step forward without noticing, "Dude, you wouldn't be here right now if Kenny didn't tell me. I'd be at practice in zero degree weather still, not even knowing!"

Kyle put his arm out and placed it on Stan's lower chest to stop him from getting any closer. It was weird showering together, but getting so close was just plain wrong. His eyes traveled to the ground, watching random streams of water go down the drain. He was getting a bit frustrated because Stan was not dropping the subject, "Dude! It wouldn't have matter! You were pissed at me anyways. You probably wouldn't have even noticed."

"Why do you say those things, Kyle?" He watched the other's arm try to push him away. It was stupid. Kyle comes close to death and he still pushes him away. He was sick of it. He reached for the wrist that was connected to the hand on his chest, and lifted it away. He tugged it closer, causing his friend to fall perfectly into place. His free arm wrapped around the other's bare body in a warm embrace. It pissed him off how perfect Kyle fit into his hugs. It pissed him off how much he had to fight to be close to him. It pissed him off how wrong Kyle's words were. Words like "It doesn't matter" and "Not even noticed," pissed him off most of all, because Kyle was the most unique and ideal being in the world. And if anyone tried to change him, he would shove a bullet so far up someone's ass it would burst out of their eyeballs.

Kyle was taken by surprise. Pushing away only made him closer, and ignoring only made the subject that more intense. It was weird. This was weird. Two friends, hugging, naked, in the shower. The weird thing about it, was he did not think it was that weird anymore. It seemed so natural now. It was so disgusting and wrong, but he liked it. His head rested on the chest he tried to push away. He heard the small thumping noise inside. So calm, smooth.

He took the damn hat off Kyle's head finally. Revealing those red curls. He rested his chin to the mess of hair. The hand that was holding the other's wrist, loosened and those fingers laced with Kyle's. His other hand explored the top region of his back, sliding a finger down the spin that popped out slightly. "Remember how we first met, dude?" He let out a weak laugh as his lips brushed across the red hair, "It was the first day of preschool. You ran in the bathroom crying because a kid made fun of your hat."

Kyle smiled, remembering the old memory, "Yeah, and you came in after me. You shared your cookie and spent snack time in there." He sighed, wishing problems could be as easy as that. But once you reach a higher step, the problems get a lot harder. Then again, his problems started getting harder the next day of preschool, when Eric Cartman showed up. But it was Cartman who introduced them to Kenny. They made some team.

Speaking of Cartman, he was at home now, looking out the window. Pissed, again! Stan saved Kyle's Jew ass, again! And his chances of getting Wendy were ruined, again! …Not like he cared. Wendy was a stupid skank, he only just noticed. She was just another person in the pool of "want-to-be's." His purpose of killing Kyle was not for her, it never was. He just wanted to rub it in Stan's face that he got Wendy, but it was not worth it now. He did not even care about Home Coming. He wanted Kyle dead! Stan and Kenny always get in the way! This made him think.

"What if… I killed Stan and Kenny first! Then, there wouldn't be anyone to stop me!" He got to his feet and laughed a dark evil laugh as lighting struck the window's vision once.

His mom called up to him from downstairs, "Poopsy-kins! Its bed time!"

He answered back in a little whiney voice, "Oook, mom!" He got into his bed and pulled the covers over him, smiling. A new plan for a new day. He always got what he wanted, and he would make sure he got this. Plus, the announcements were going to be sweet tomorrow.

But not too far away from the Cartman's, over the train tracks, stood the unsturdy house of the McCormik's. Kenny ran out of the house as a glass beer bottle was thrown, barely missing him.

He let out an aggravated noise cupping his hands over his ears. When the sun fell, it got a lot colder and he was still wearing his gym shirt. Today had to be the worst day of his life. But when is it not? It was cold, but it was better than being inside. His house was not even a home anymore. He wished he could go somewhere. Anywhere but here. He looked back as he heard a crash. Another window was shattered. He did not bother to see what was thrown.

Something else caught his eye. He stood and looked at what was hanging from his front door. It was orange. He stepped toward it and picked it up with his hands. It was a coat, and it had a hood and everything. It almost looked like his old one. He looked in both directions. Who left it here and how long had it been hanging there?

Another breeze went by. By instinct he put his new coat on. It fit perfectly. He rose the hood over his head and had it cover almost all of his face. Whoever did this was really nice. But who? He did not know a lot of people, and most people had never acknowledged his existence. He was sure he freaked Stan out because he's gay. It might be Kyle, but not likely. He puts thought into things, but not that much. And, let's face it, Cartman was an ass hole and hated him. Then, there was Butters, but he only just started being friends with him.

He put his hands in his pockets because he lost his gloves with his other coat. There was something inside. It felt like a piece of paper and something metal. He brought it out to his view. It was a one-hundred dollar bill and key. He could not believe what he was looking at. He heard the yelling get louder and ran off the porch and down the street. He was getting dinner tonight!

…But the key. Who's house did it go to? He shrugged it off for right now. He already got enough, he was happy. He slide the small idem back in his pocket and held the paper money in his hand so he knew he had it. He never carried so much money in his life before! It was awesome! He got to buy whatever the hell he wanted.


End file.
